The Letter, The Flower
by Joannafromtheshire
Summary: (LxOC). Rose, genius child of the underworld, is raised as a criminal detective to combat the state. She never questions her life, until syndicate The Group get her investigating a mysterious detective called L, so that he can be destroyed. Meanwhile, in her false identity, she meets a weird guy called Ryuzaki, and they're irresistibly drawn to each other...
1. Chapter 1: The Beginnings of Something

_So this is my first fanfiction for years! L will be the only Death Note character for a little while, but the others will get involved later on don't worry! I hope you enjoy it_

The sky was greying into twilight. Rose paused her yoga to glance out of the skylight on the diagonal roof of her flat. Over the wiggling rectangular shapes of Bristol's cityscape, a dull, earthy pink still tinged the horizon, below the creeping grey. After soaking in a moment of the aesthetic scene, Rose continued to stretch off. Yoga was one of her most relaxed physical activities, alongside Tai Chi and Qi Gong. She had intensely studied, alone, with the help of the internet, every martial art she could discover, Kung Fu, Taekwondo, Aikido, Judo, Jiu-Jitsu. She didn't believe in 'Chi', or any of that Eastern spiritual stuff. Rose simply liked the powerful, energetic feeling that having a well-trained body gave you. It also came in very handy in a tight spot. From what she could tell, she now excelled in the form of each, though that was also hard to judge since she had very limited opportunities to practise against another actual person. There weren't many practitioners in the criminal underworld, and she was hardly going to stoop so low as to go to a _class_. The occasional times she'd had to use her skills, the opponent had been defeated so fast that it barely qualified as a test. Rose remembered this with mild annoyance. _How boring_.

When she finished, the glorious pink had dulled, and Rose moved through her small open plan apartment from the floor space between the bed and the living area, to the adjoining kitchen area. Having gulped down a glass of water, she made a plate of food. It was meticulously calculated to include precisely the right amount of each food group and each vitamin and mineral necessary for a healthy body. Rose stared down it with a wrinkled nose, brow furrowed.

"Stupid food".

Rose had never liked eating. It was a means to an end for her, a simple necessity for staying alive and at peak physical performance. Flicking open her laptop, she wolfed down the food that felt like tasteless alien creatures in her mouth, killing them between her teeth. She performed a randomised puzzle before entering several passwords. The random puzzles generated by the algorithm were impossibly hard. This was so that, even IF anyone managed to hack or torture her passwords from her, no one less intelligent than Rose could enter her computer. This was a pretty failsafe barrier – Rose had not yet met a single soul that matched her in mental agility. Like her body, she trained her mind to perfection.

Rose idly scrolled through the case she'd been working on. There wasn't much point, she knew she'd already found what they were looking for, but it didn't harm to check the details. All seemed to be in order. She minimised it, chuckling inwardly at the file's name, 'Case 407'. It tickled Rose's fancy to calls her jobs 'cases'. Well, after all, she _was_ a detective. She _did_ work on cases – it just so happened that the people she investigated were the police, private security services, and 'mainstream' detectives; and the people she worked for were the lords of the underworld.

The case just finished had been a simple task. An embezzler in Cardiff had suspicions that an officer was on his trail. It hadn't been hard to hack the local police records of who had been sent on what jobs, even though they changed their security even time they suspected a breach (which, 9 times out of ten, had been Rose). The officer was called James Pointer. With a name, Rose could find out anything. Facebook gave her his favourite places to frequent in Cardiff. He was single and enjoyed going to bars. Perfect. Rose had gone to each the weekend just passed, and eventually found him, reading a newspaper and drinking a beer. It wasn't hard to chat him up, and when they left and he offered to walk her home, she asked him where he resided.

"Queen street, in a hotel, I'm only here for work." He offered.

"Perfect, I live only a few blocks past there, I'll walk with you!"

He smiled eagerly and they walked together, chatting fluidly. Rose was good at chatting. She'd trained in that too, how to ask just the right number of questions, how to smile and laugh in the right places. Soon they were there, and she bid him goodnight before he could ask for a number. As he turned regretfully into the hotel, she doubled back. James Pointer took the stairs with windows exposing them up to the 4th floor. Moments later a light flicked on. Rose zoomed the binoculars into the foyer, luckily spotting a floor plan of the entire hotel. _Room 125. How easy_. With his name, appearance and location, the embezzler could evade him easily enough. Her job was done.

It was amazing what you could do with a name, Rose thought. She thanked some unknown entity up in the stars that she didn't have one. Rose was the only name she'd been given. Rose had been born 'under the radar', as far as the government were concerned, she didn't exist. Only her false identity Fenella Green, existed to them.

As her mind slowly pulled itself back from the Pointer investigation to her little flat, one of her three phones rang. _David, Work_ , read the screen. Rose knew what that meant, and raised her eyebrows in mild surprise. She hadn't been contacted by The Group in over a year. She'd been forced to do small-scale national work all that time, and was thoroughly bored by it. It made her money, but it didn't challenge her in the way she craved. All that had kept her sane was the ceaseless training. Maybe they'd have something interesting for her?

"Hey Fen," said the male voice on the other end. They were using her alias', so she instantly knew that this time they were fearful of being listened to.

"Hi David," she greeted casually.

"I've got some good ideas for that presentation tomorrow, would you be up for discussing them over a drink tonight? I know it's not work hours, but I think if went over the ideas before tomorrow we could do it so much better."

"Sure I'm not too tired, where shall we meet?" She responded, a flicker of excitement rising in her belly. If they were asking to meet her that swiftly, it was definitely a serious case.

"Let's go to The King William, the pints are cheap", 'David' suggested.

"Half 10?"

"Sure."

Rose hastily skipped to the bedroom end of the flat, and put on 'Fenella Green'. This involved skirts, cashmere jumpers, lipstick, a tight bun out of her chestnut hair. Fen never wore her hair down. She checked her work in the mirror. Pretty good. Rose had the advantage of possessing a very universal, normal, pretty face. Fenella was her standard alias, the one with a full fake identity, but it was easy to transform her standard looks into many personas when she needed to.

She grabbed the phone that had rung, her wallet, and installed a tiny microphone inside her bun. Her memory was near-perfect, but Rose liked to be sure she never missed a detail of her briefings. She bounced down the stairs from her upper flat, past the ground floor flat, out of her garden and through the sleepy streets of Redland. It was a good place to live – no one suspected anything 'unusual' to be going on in this middleclass district, and she certainly had the money. Being paid by criminals to find out what they needed to know was a lucrative business!

Half an hour later, 'David', a boringly dressed 40 year old entered The King William, where Rose had already bought a pint. His real name was Wayne, and he was Rose's contact with The Group. He joined her in the secluded booth, and clinked his glass against hers.

"How lovely to see you, Miss Green".

Rose smiled in return. Wayne was okay. He was the sort of criminal she liked working with: efficient, discreet, intelligent. "I haven't seen you in over a year. I was beginning to think that you had solved all your problems for good."

He chuckled. "For a while, it seemed that way, as I'm certain you're aware."

She nodded. She kept tabs on her important clients. The Group had been doing well for itself lately, growing richer every month. She saw Wayne's smile fade.

"The problem is", he began slowly, "yesterday two of our low-ranking officials were caught. That would have been bad enough, but several of our small, partner organisations were taken down at the same time. They're working in towards us. Worryingly the foreign branches of those partner organisations were taken down too. Whoever instigated these arrests knows far too much, and is global in reach. I can scarcely believe that it was just the UK police."

Rose snorted. "Unlikely. I break into their records almost every day, and it's only every month or two they realise that security has been breached. So what's the story, an international police collaboration?"

"Maybe." Wayne hesitated. "But the guys at the top have a different theory".

"Oh?"

"Have you ever heard of L?"

Rose thought for a moment. "Yes, that letter has been used in several high-profile cases I've looked at in police records. I always assumed it was a code for a certain special department or task force."

"Possibly," Wayne admitted, "but the guys at the top said that one of their men got out of questioning a little while back, and had said that he'd been detained and questioned by L. And this 'L' was a single person – he only spoke over a speaker, but greeted the guy by saying 'My name is L'."

Rose's eyebrows raised. Her sharp mind raced around many possibilities. "Interesting. He could of course have been lying. But if that is the truth, then we seem to be dealing with some kind of single agent, that is affiliated with the police, but not part of them, that is trusted with many high-profile cases, and even with his own detainment arrangements. What's more, his reach is international in scope. Can we really believe that a single individual could hold that much power – and that much intelligence – to be in such a position?"

Wayne sighed. "That's why we're hiring you again. We have no idea what we're up against here. We need to find out what or who L is, so we can stop them before our organisation is exposed. L is already far too close for our liking. We've had to readapt all our security and all our plans. Will you take the job?"

Rose was already on the job, her mind whizzing with how to go about her new task. "Of course. I can see why you need my skills. I won't let you down."

"We're offering you twice the normal rate. We hope this impresses on you the urgency of his job. We won't take failure lightly, even if it is failure from being too slow."

Rose smiled professionally at his serious face. This is why she liked him. "I completely understand. You shall have my first report tomorrow evening."

"Good. I think it's safe to do it over the internet at the moment, with all the standard precautions."

"Sure".

Wayne downed the remaining beer, pulling a face at the warm, flatness of the dregs, and stood up.

"A pleasure as always, Fenella."

"A pleasure as always David."

As he left, Rose finished her pint slowly, finding the bitter beer dregs as tasteless as her food earlier. She swirled them in the bottom of the glass, her face impassive, but her insides sparkling. Finally, an interesting case to work on, one with some real mystery. Perhaps L did not exist. But she'd find out soon enough.

L stared at his blank computer screen. A dark lock of hair fell into his eye, and he pushed it away, absentmindedly reaching for a sugar cube. It crunched between his teeth pleasantly, slowly filling his mouth with sweetness as it began to dissolve. It was late, but he wasn't tired. He could never sleep for more than one sleep cycle at a time, 90 minutes, and he had done so that morning. Sleep wouldn't return for a while yet.

He mulled over his case. He knew the organisation that he was trying to catch, The Group. He knew their activities, quietly pulling the strings behind the drug smuggling and money laundering, surrounded by a haze of coercion, murder and torture to keep things going. They were the biggest such organisation he'd seen, with partner-organisations all over the globe. He even strongly suspected some of its significant members. But just as he'd been getting close, they'd become wise to his investigations and altered all their security. It was probably the man he'd questioned the week before. _I should've kept him here longer. I'd have noticed a slip eventually_.All he managed to pinpoint for sure were a few of the smaller fish around them, the hard proof of The Group's members eluded him. It was no matter. It dragged things out, but L was confident he'd bring them down in just a matter of weeks. He always had done before. L span round in his computer chair, humming tunelessly to the ceiling. The case wasn't finished, but he felt as though it already had. _How boring_ , he thought evenly, and chewed another sugar cube.

 _So what do you guys think? Should I upload more? I've written a fair bit of it!_


	2. Chapter 2: How to Find L?

_Thought I might as well upload a 2_ _nd_ _one so you could see where it's going. = ]_

Rose returned to the sleepy suburb and made a cup of coffee. The clock ticked towards 1am, but she knew she couldn't sleep. Sleep was the one part of her routine that prevented her from peak physical and mental performance, she could rarely sleep for more than three hours a day. She'd wait until three or four to try that.

After taking 'Fenella Green' off, hair down, she sat cross-legged and perfectly poised on the sofa. Late summer was clinging on way into September this year, and all she needed to wear was loose trousers and a vest. Coffee in hand, Rose stared at the wall with its nondescript little artworks.

"What are you, L?" she mused.

She was sure that L was no part of the British police – she knew them too well for a secret like this to have been hidden. A large, international, crime-fighting organisation? A small task force? An individual detective? Considering the scale of the intervention, a large-scale secret operation seemed the most likely, and yet Rose had doubts. She was aware of the existence of two such groups, and was sure she'd have come across another. Unless of course 'L' was an alias for one or the other. _Possible_. A small task force? Considering Rose had never found much evidence of them, this looked more likely, perhaps a recently developed, covert assemblage of international experts. _Possible_. An individual detective?

Rose frowned. Despite Wayne's information about the man and his questioner, this option seemed the most unlikely. It seemed unreasonable for one person have dug so deep into one of the world's biggest crime organisations so quickly. Though perhaps with accomplices...? _Possible_ , she admitted to herself grudgingly.

She turned on her laptop, sipping quietly at her coffee. After struggling enjoyably with the evening's random puzzle, she opened a file containing the police records she'd found it interesting to keep over the years. There were thousands. Several were the nature she was looking for, high-end cases and serious organised crime. Opening two at random, she found nothing. On the third however, she had more luck.

"Rapes... blah blah... Officers... blah blah... Oooh. _" L has joined the investigation. 4 more leads to explore._ Read the seventh line. She flicked to the next report of the case, a day later. To her surprise, it was the final report. _L has identified the perpetrator... Brian Fandon... Conclusive proof..._

Rapists were one of her least favourite types of criminal, so base, so dull. All they wanted to do was feed their sadism and psychological deficiencies with other's pain, it was distasteful. She did not like the police and their detectives, such a power-hungry bunch, but criminals like these were just as bad. It was entirely neutrally she could look at such a case. Scanning through the evidence and proof, she noted the complexity of his crime. Brian had been a clever guy.

"They solved that in a day?" Rose was mildly incredulous. That was impressive. That was as fast as she'd have done it. She poured the last of the coffee down her throat before intently searching all the stolen files. By 4am, she had built up a library of the cases referencing 'L'. Over 5 years there had been nearly 20, each fast, and brutally logical. But nowhere contained a slip of 'L's nature. Rose hadn't really expected it, it had been enough to build up the profile of L's engagement with the police in the UK. It would've been useful to compare it to foreign data, but even Rose had very limited capacities for accessing that.

She grumbled softly. She needed more information. Finally, her eyes started dipping, and Rose climbed into the purple sheets of her bed to sleep.

Rose rose at 7 bright-eyed, forced her way through a balanced flavourless breakfast, and trained hard for nearly two hours. Feeling light on her toes, she made herself sit down and get her 'job' out of the way. To the public world, Rose (or Fenella) was a freelance puzzle creator, crosswords, Sudoku's, word-games, all manner of simple brain-teasers for magazines. They were pitifully easy to her, and she created all she needed to make in about two hours. Though it wasn't terrifically exciting, it made her mind peaceful. She'd send them off to the various magazines and newspapers that employed her later, to not let on that she created them too quickly.

"Now for the real work!"

It was no accident that Rose did what she did. She'd literally been born into it. Her parents had helped run The Group, smuggling billions of pounds of drugs all about the world. Rose had even been born 'underground'. From an early age they recognised her potential, and used her mind power to invent ways to circumvent the authorities. One day, when she was eleven, she got a method wrong. The police found out, and stormed their location. Seeing them coming, her father raised his gun with a wild and hopeless grin and shot her mother. He raised it to shoot Rose too, but she'd run and hidden tightly in a cupboard, heart thudding and body shaking. Being unable to see her, he turned the gun around on himself. Rose couldn't see him die, but she heard it. The invasive blast, the ugly smoosh of bits of body leaving their rightful place. When Rose remembered that day, she felt both burned and twisted inside, and curiously numb.

It was all very simple in Rose's mind. This was why she hated ugly, messy, distasteful crimes. This was why she hated the police, for destroying her family. They were all the same, gangsters and state authorities, just both trying to monopolise power and violence. Since every political or corporate power was evil, Rose thought she might as well play on the side of the underdog. And this was why she hated herself for getting things wrong. Her mistake had killed her parents. She'd never slip up like that again. From then on, her tricks and puzzles had to be perfect.

Rose was used to the incident cropping up in her thoughts once in a while. That had been thirteen years ago. She'd long got over it, and she'd learnt her lessons. She'd learnt many more as a parentless adolescent brought up in a world of crime. She learnt about certain types of men and their irrepressible will for domination, their selfish desires. She learnt about pain and shame and how never to trust. At the age of 15, a gentle computer hacker took her under his wing for a few years years, got her a fake identity, before he was eventually caught and imprisoned. She vowed to never work for murderers, torturers and rapists. She would fight the police for what they did to her childhood, but she wouldn't go near the ugly crimes to do so. She'd be careful. She'd be pure. And she'd never make mistakes again.

"Where to start?"

Rose pondered to herself gently, massaging her temples. She urgently needed more information and fast, to report something by the evening. Judging from the way the police spoke of L, L was no part of them. But this did not mean they'd keep no information on them. It would likely be highly secure. For this, she needed to go to London. She needed the help of her least favourite accomplice.

Jimmy Randall was a slimy, sleazy rake of a man, with wispy brown hair and small almost-yellow eyes that burnt the things he stared at like a leached chemical. Had Rose been a weaker woman, those eyes would have scalded her too, but she was not. He met her on his lunch break, outside a cafe round the corner from one of London Met's police headquarters.

"Wassit this time Lily?" He asked her lazily, as his eyes slipped over her form like congealing syrup. Lily was Rose's alias she used _only_ for police contact. Lily wore shades, summer dresses and pigtails.

"I need some information, today."

Jimmy Randall took a cigarette out of his pocket and perched it in his thin lips. "Well yeah. What about?"

"The organisation called 'L'. I need whatever you can find. It might be highly classified. It might not even be online."

He raised his eyebrows and leered. "What you got for it?"

Rose slipped an envelope of cash into his hand. "There's the deposit, I'll give you the rest later."

Jimmy felt the weight of it and nodded. "Aye, that'll do... Almost!" And his non-smoking hand raced to touch her. Rose was too quick, and restrained him easily. Nobody had seen, it would look like she was just holding his arm. Jimmy gasped with pain and withdrew his hand.

"Alright alright love, no need to get violent. I'll get the stuff to ya."

Rose smiled a perfect fake smile. "Thank you. I knew I could count on you." She left Jimmy, as he grumbled. He was a foul and useless man, but he loved money more than anything, even more than cigarettes and women's bodies. He'd deliver.

As Rose took the train back to Bristol, she felt her third phone buzz. _Done it sweetheart_. Perfect.

Back in her apartment, Rose made some strong tea and settled down cross-legged on the sofa to see what Jimmy had provided. Sure enough, in one of her email accounts lay a blank message with an attached photo. SO she'd been right, the information _was_ on paper.

 _L._

 _Affiliation: Detective._

 _Location: Unknown._

 _Name: Unknown._

 _Further Information: As far as we are aware, L works alone. L has worked with the police for several years now. His assistance is invaluable, but we have no way of contacting him. Our only means of communication are via a man named 'Watari', and L's distorted voice through a speaker and microphone. The voice suggests a male speaker. Though 'Watari' suggests Eastern origins, both speak perfect English, with no trace of accent. L will only work on cases that he chooses, and sometimes uses methods that the police force cannot exactly condone. This has been known to cause malevolence in the police force, but it cannot be helped. Sometimes L is the only one to solve the crimes. It is, however, the police force's prerogative to find out the identity and whereabouts of L. Of those aware of his existence, many find it uncomfortable to find ourselves working alongside, even under, an unknown character, who may end up having ulterior motives. For the time being, this style of relationship is a necessary evil._

Rose sat back, her whole being tensed and alert. One man after all. An unknown element, like Rose herself, a nameless detective. Things were getting interesting.

She wandered into the kitchen and filled up the kettle, thinking hard. Without a name or location, and if the _police_ couldn't reach L, then most of her usual lines of enquiry were void. This would take all her ingenuity. It would probably also require some accurate psychoanalysis.

"Who is this man?" She asked the boiling kettle. When it refused to say anything but hisses, she answered for it in her mind. _An individual with a phenomenal mind and phenomenal influence to take and solve such cases. A careful – even paranoid – man, to not give even the police his location. Probably an individual with a powerful sense of justice. A confident one at that, to hold the police in the palm of his hand in such a way. L. If I know anything about detectives, and I should since I am one, he's probably a meticulous perfectionist just like me_. _He probably never takes failure for an answer._

She could see him in her mind's eye, the very caricature of a smooth, confident man, with broad limbs, a good suit, purposeful erect posture, and perfected social skills. He'd _have_ to be such a man to blend in, and persuade authorities to trust his lead in such important matters. What nationality? That was harder to say, but she'd go on the police's analysis of his accent and assume he was English for now.

Abstractly, Rose almost respected such a figure. However, concretely, L was her target. Contextually, _he_ was the one bringing down Rose's best source of income. It was more than that though, the very organisation that Rose's parents had headed before they died. Rose knew it had some shadier aspects, but overall The Group were a respectful, intelligent crime syndicate, with no sympathy for the state, but sympathy for ordinary people. L had to go.

But how to find him? With all her usual avenues stymied, Rose would have to discover him in more risky ways. _Perfectionist... Confidence... Failure... Competition..._ A plan was beginning to form in her mind. She smiled with satisfaction as she poured a green tea. There was nothing perfectionist detectives liked more than a challenge. From one perfectionist to another, she would challenge him. She would make such difficult, tantalizing mazes towards The Group that L would be compelled by his own intellectual desire to follow its paths. When he was lost enough, he would either lose concentration and reveal himself, or she could arrange it so he _had_ to.

Rose's smile widened to a grin as the teabag was lifted out of the mug. This was going to be fun. But she'd need to be nearer The Group to do it, she must meet with their leaders in person and involve them in her plans. That would require staying in London for a while, so she required an excuse. Luckily, she had a perfect one. She leafed impatiently through a pile of old mail on the sideboard, before finding a patterned slip of paper, an invitation to a two-week course in how to create other Japanese puzzles: Hitori, Kakuro, Futoshiki for example. It was all morning classes – they gave you the afternoons off to work on your skills alone. _Perfect!_ She could even go the course and still have plenty of time, no one would suspect a thing.

The course started in three days, Monday. She'd get her affairs in order, contact Wayne, and inform her work she was going on the course. She wouldn't be letting them down, she had a backup bank of puzzles to send them in these cases, and she would set them to send every day. Too excited to sit still, Rose practised some Kung Fu, beginning to invent traps for L in her head. Kicking high over her head, she felt power surge through her deliciously.

L turned his head at the noise behind him – it was just Wammy, carrying a tall ice-cream. L took it appreciatively.

"Thanks" he mumbled, through a mouthful of chocolate ice-cream, before noticing a slightly concerned look in Wammy's eyes. "What's the matter?"

"It's just, I think you should go outside. I know it's a risk, but you haven't opened the curtains all weekend. I'm starting to worry you're going to get Vitamin D deficiency." Wammy said it like a joke, chuckling, but L could see he meant it.

"Maybe I've learnt to photosynthesise darkness." L suggested to his icecream.

"Hmm I'm not sure even you could wangle that one."

In most situations, L would ignore other people's suggestions about what he should or should not do, because he was usually right in his own conclusions. Wammy was different however. He was the only other human that L could trust, and L knew that when it came to his own wellbeing, Wammy often knew him better than he did himself.

"Yes, you're probably right." L licked a drip of ice-cream swiftly to prevent it dribbling down the cone. "A change of scene does my powers of reason some good. But it's almost dark, there's no point going until the morning."

Wammy smiled: L had actually taken his advice. "Splendid." But L's attention had already turned away from the old man, back to the diagram he was drawing. Wammy knew it represented the case somehow, but all he could decipher were a few dates, names, and confusing scribbles. He quietly left him to it.

 _Thoughts/comments? Shall I continue uploading? x_


	3. Chapter 3: The Strange Man in the Park

_So here comes the first meeting! Hope you enjoy x_

Rose awoke on Monday morning at 5.30am. As she lay in the unfamiliar bed, she knew she would not get back to sleep, for 3 hours had passed since her bedtime. Swinging her legs round to the floor she stretched like a cat. She felt full of energy. Once dressed, she looked round her little hotel room. It was a perfectly nice room, with lace-edged bed linen, a compact, sophisticated en suite, and a wooden desk with a modernist lamp atop it. The generous window opened on to small Parisian balcony overlooking a moderately busy tree-lined street, and as she pulled back the beige patterned curtain, she saw the beginnings of a beautiful day written in the blue sky and still air. Turning back to the room, she wrinkled her nose in annoyance. _So much energy, and no room to train._ It was a fairly middle-of-the-road hotel, and the floor space was scanty. Rose, the freelance criminal detective could've afforded a much bigger room, but Fenella Green, the freelance puzzle creator for magazines, could not.

The promise of the day outside made up her mind for her. She'd find a park. After checking Google Maps and finding three local parks, she picked the one with the most bushes and alcoves, so that she could train in relative privacy. She doubted many people would go there at 6am anyway. After memorising the route over breakfast, she set off.

The park was nothing special, but it was pleasant in the crisp morning sunrise. Since it was late summer the trees, bushes and flower beds were leaning opulently into their final days, seedpods ripe and fat, leaves dark and luxurious. Only the scattered cans and crisp packets ruined the scene. Following the hedged edge, she found a suitable grassy spot surrounded on most sides by small laurels and rhododendrons, and began to train.

L had wandered down streets for about twenty minutes before crossing into a park edged with laurels and rhododendrons. It was no rural countryside, but nicer to wander in than the streets of London. He ambled slowly across the park, eyes on the grassy floor beneath him. Wammy was right, it was good to feel the sunlight once in a while. A mysterious pattern of sound caught his attention. From behind a bed of evergreens came the sound of heavy breath, and rhythmic stomps on the grassy earth. He approached the evergreens silently, his curiosity getting the better of him. Between the leaves he could see a figure, a young woman, training intensively. His practised eye followed the movements, and established that it was Jiu-Jitsu. She was pretty good, but every time she did the third move in the sequence, she lifted her elbow in the wrong direction. As he watched, L flinched with annoyance every time it happened. Didn't she know the consequences of lifting it at that angle? A minute or so passed, and he attempted to move away, but found his feet carrying him to the entrance to the alcove between the foliage. He couldn't bear for her to practise it wrong for the rest of her life. He'd just point it out to her and leave. How could he say this in a way that wouldn't freak her out?

"You're doing it wrong, you know." He heard his voice as he spoke, low, dry, and superior-sounding. _Damn_. That had come out all wrong.

Rose stopped suddenly in surprise, automatically tensing into a defensive position at the sound of the unexpected voice. In the gap between the laurels and rhododendrons stood a pale, lanky figure of about her own age. His facial structure was delicate, and betrayed some Eastern blood in his lineage. The black hair piled around his face dangled in scruffy locks, his dark eyes had sunken bags underneath, and his shoulders hunched awkwardly. It looked uncomfortable to Rose. He wore a loose, long-sleeved white t-shirt that bagged around his willowy frame, and baggy jeans to match. His feet, to Rose's surprise, were totally bare. _Wasn't he cold?_ He was an odd looking creature, Rose decided swiftly. His mouth rested with the corners turned down, indicating a world-weariness that didn't befit someone of his age. If he had any redeeming feature it was those dark eyes. They swam with intelligence. Rose still hadn't replied.

"Oh?" She mustered, not really knowing how to react. She relaxed her defensive posture, standing normally, annoyed at the interruption.

"Jiu-Jitsu, right?"

"Right."

"I thought so. And you train a lot, but don't get to practise with others much, am I right?"

"Right," Rose responded warily.

"Yes that makes sense. If you practised with others more, you would know that holding your elbow outwards in the third move makes it very easy for the opponent to break your arm."

There was an awkward pause. Rose's ego was feeling threatened – she practised all the moves from memory these days, but she refused to believe she'd remembered a move wrong. Her memory never failed her. "Show me then!" she challenged, her irritation getting the better of her.

"Okay. Go through the sequence". His face was blank. She couldn't tell if he'd registered her irritation at his lofty confidence in her mistake. Rose began the sequence, a little slower.

"No," he interrupted, "do it fast, like before."

Surprised, Rose began again, at full speed. As she transitioned into the third move, she lifted her elbow and – BAM. She found herself kneeling on the cool grass, her arm twisted painfully up behind her, gripped by thin, warm fingers like a pincer. The fingers released their iron grip, and she span round and upright, face-to-face with the stranger.

"See?" He said simply. "Defenceless."

Rose felt her face burn. She'd got something _wrong_. She detested getting things wrong. Especially something she'd been training for years. "Yes, I see." She said calmly, keeping her facial expression neutral. The stranger's face betrayed even less than her own. Those dark eyes rested in hers for more seconds that she was comfortable with, and she looked away into the bushes.

"Have I offended you?"

"No!" Rose lied. "Perhaps," she continued politely, biting back a snarl, "you would be so kind as to go through that again, so I can correct myself?" She had already been humiliated, the only way forward from there was to fix her mistake so it wouldn't happen again.

"If you want," he said indifferently, moving measuredly into the space opposite her.

Rose steadied her breathing and her mind, before launching into the routine once more. As the third move came, she brought her elbow in, and the hand that was reaching for her elbow missed its mark. As she completed the third move, her leg swung into his side as desired, and he fell back without a wince.

"There you go." He looked slightly pleased. "Much better." And with that, he turned around and began to walk out of the evergreen enclosure.

"Wait!" Rose couldn't help shouting. _How rude_. He couldn't just show her up then leave immediately.Why not use the opportunity to have a proper practise? "Before you go, will you have just one fight with me?"

L paused without turning round. A powerful voice in his mind reprimanded than he'd already interacted with this stranger for too long. He needed to pass through places like a ghost, not involve himself with any casual person he met. He'd let his loathing of seeing things done wrongly overtake his judgment. _But maybe it's too late already, maybe it doesn't matter now._ Besides, he was curious to test his agility against a practised stranger.

"Okay."

Rose watched the strange man return to the alcove. Here was a chance to prove herself, to get some reward for the hard work she'd been putting in these last few years. They felt for their footing, eyeing each other warily, watching for the first move.

Suddenly they surged towards each other. Bodies blurred, limbs jutted with devilish precision. For each move Rose flung at him, he blocked it seamlessly. For each attack he made on her, she blocked it with equal elegance. They were like a powerful wildcat pitted against a lithe, rangy wolf. A couple of frenzied minutes passed, and Rose could feel the sweat rise up over her entire body, could feel the sweat of his body whenever they made contact. The only sounds were the gasps of their breathing, the thuds of their limb's impact with each other or the ground, and the birds tweeting nonchalantly above. Two more frenetic minutes passed. Rose found it harder and harder to second-guess his next move, her mind strained, but she could see he was physically declining much faster than her. There was all to fight for. However before she realised what was happening, the stranger had somehow levered her strength against her and she crashed onto her back on the floor with a small cry.

Rose lay there for a moment with her eyes closed, regaining her breath. She could hear the stranger's wheezing breath nearby. _Damn him_.

"Ah you alright?" He sounded more curious than concerned.

"Fine," she lied, again, sitting up. She found the stranger crouching weirdly beside her, his hands wrapped around his knees, dark eyes watching her as if she were an animal in a lab experiment. It irritated her. _Damn him_. _I don't much like his manner, but I need to learn how he does that._

"Will you teach me your moves?" Rose asked, almost regretfully.

The curiosity in his face was replaced with blankness, as if a blind had been pulled over it. "No I'm afraid not, I really have to go."

 _Buggar. She might never find another training opponent so skilled._ "How about tomorrow?"

L hesitated. _This is why I don't go outside, Wammy._ He'd put himself in an unfortunate position now. If he declined, he'd only sound suspicious, she would definitely ask him why not, and probably be offended. But if he said yes, he'd have to expose his face to the world and this stranger once again. Her expression met his blank face with surprising force. L didn't think he'd get away lightly with backing out. _Besides, it's good for me to train, it's a rare opportunity to meet someone with credible skill._

"Okay. But _only_ tomorrow. I'm visiting some friends, I won't be around after that." It was only a half-lie. He'd be moving hotels the day after, and wouldn't be in this part of town.

"That's fine. Same time?"

"Sure." Without further ado, he moved off.

Rose sat on the grass for a moment trying to neutralise her emotions. Her ego was riled to be sure. She'd show the annoyingly skilled oddball what she was made of tomorrow.

 _So what dya think, readers?_


	4. Chapter 4: The Group

Rose's morning at the puzzle course passed swiftly and boringly. She integrated herself with her professional acquaintances for as short as was still socially acceptable, and excused herself just after lunch. She'd tried to eat the provided buffet, but it had tasted like sawdust in her mouth, whether it was ham, quiche, or lemon cake. This afternoon she'd meet with the current bosses of The Group for the first time and put her proposal to them.

A coded text from Wayne told her to meet someone at the entrance to Kentish Town tube station. She found the middle-aged woman, dully dressed, without a hitch, and they took a tube to a part of town Rose had never visited before. Old Victorian factories, new corrugated iron monstrosities, and red-brick office blocks crowded next to each other. She and the woman exchanged a little small talk as they walked, as a smattering of businessmen/women and factory workers drove and walked past on their daily duties. Eventually the woman directed her down a no-through road to a featureless corrugated iron building, and left her with some instructions on what to say.

Rose approached reception and spoke her lines. The receptionist glanced at her computer screen, and confirmed that Rose's face matched her picture.

"Sure, welcome to the London branch of GoodPharma. I'll ring for someone to take you through."

Soon a man arrived, and led her down a corridor with windows onto a large factory workspace where inscrutable machines were being tended by a small number of white-clad figures. The corridor wound round the workspace, and up some stairs to a higher floor. In the only entrance stood two towering security guards, a man and woman. The man searched her bag, whilst the woman patted her down incredibly thoroughly, even checking her shoes and hair. Rose acquiesced, and gave her the microphone hidden in her bun. Eventually, she was allowed through. She felt a curious mix of paranoia, and total calm. A couple more securely coded doors led to a spacious office room with a wide desk and several expensive leather chairs.

"Rose! How good to meet you." There were five figures in the room, two security, two suited men, and a suited woman. The man behind the desk was the speaker, dressed to the nines. His silver hair was trimmed neatly, face smoothly shaved, a gentle genuine tan permeating his skin. Cool blue eyes looked at Rose appreciatively. "It feels right to finally be able to thank you for all your hard work over the years in person."

Rose smiled graciously. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr...?"

"Mr Sawyer, Benjamin Sawyer, UK CEO of GoodPharma, distributors of all your everyday painkillers. But we're here on more important business than paracetamol, of course."

"Indeed. And who are your associates that I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"This is Mr John Walding," Sawyer said, indicating a shorter man with brown, parted hair and steel-rimmed glasses. "And this is Ms Ruth Fetter." Ruth Fetter was an elderly lady in a pinstriped skirted suit, dark but greying hair wrapped in an elegant bun. As Rose nodded to her in recognition, she met a pursed mouth and pair of fiery green eyes that made even Rose's hair stand on end. Concealing her reaction, she smiled politely.

"Let's get down to business then." Sawyer motioned for her to take a seat.

"Well," began Rose, "I can confirm that L is a single operative." Her audience nodded – they'd expected this. "The advantage is that a single detective is much easier to stop or kill than a large and diffuse organisation. However, we're starting on a back foot, because even the police do not know his identity or whereabouts, though they've worked with him many times."

This was new information to them, each face registered some surprise.

"So we're dealing with a highly intelligent, covert detective. This means we must match L's intelligence to beat him. We must stay ahead in the game. This is why I suggest you let me reconfigure all of your cyber-security and manual security systems at underground locations, and improve the false cyber-trails documenting your money movements. Without wishing to boast, I expect that whoever reconfigured them last week will have only staved L off for a short time. I know I can create something far more complex."

Sawyer, Walding and Fetter nodded in assent. Rose paused for a moment, and stroked the smooth mahogany desk before her pensively.

"However, that only accounts for our defensive. To remove this threat, it is my opinion that we need to be on the offensive at the same time. Now there are several lines of attack I can propose." Rose saw interest spark in their eyes. "Firstly, I have someone in the police that will be able to bug the room where L's computerised voice speaks to the police force. This will allow us to monitor his progress and stay one step ahead. Secondly, much of the police force seem to resent L's distant and different way of working, and this resentment is something we can turn against him. We can use _the police's own animosity_ to stymie, or even find, L. Thirdly, a lone, genius detective like L is a puzzle-solver, he's a game-player. Such a person can't resist a challenge, and won't stand to be beaten or played with. He'll be as much of a competitive perfectionist as I am. I can use this to draw him out. I can rile him enough to make a mistake and reveal himself."

Sawyer and Walding nodded enthusiastically. A thin, deadly smile spread across Fetter's cheeks. "Very interesting," she hissed.

"First of all," Rose continued, "alongside the overhaul of your security systems, I need to test L's ability to see what we're up against, and test that my bug in the police station is providing us with the upper hand we require. So I'm going to create three false trails that seem promising but lead to nowhere. If he realises that they are all fake, then we have an accurate impression of the magnitude of our challenge here."

After some details were ironed out, and Rose told her audience what to tell their subordinates to do with the manual security, Rose left. _That went well_ , she thought satisfiedly. The wheels were in motion. As soon as she was back in the hotel room, she'd redo the security, and start working on the trails to lead L astray.

It was nearing midnight, and L had nearly broken through John Walding's firewalls. He wasn't as good a hacker as Wedy, but she'd shown him the ropes and it was pretty simple with a bit of practise. He was certain that Walding's computer would reveal something. He'd be unable to pin enough evidence on GoodPharma yet, but he knew they were the British seat of power for The Group. Anyone with any logical intuition could gather that. Unfortunately, logical intuition wasn't enough to convict people. He had to provide some hard evidence that GoodPharma were behind it. Records of monetary transactions maybe, unexplained orders of chemicals.

He typed in a few more lines of code. _This will do it for sure_. To his surprise, the window crashed. L rubbed his toes together thoughtfully. What could have caused that? He was sure he hadn't made any mistakes. _An extra defence I didn't expect perhaps._ Popping a strawberry into his mouth, he retried the steps he'd already made.

Access denied. Access denied. Access denied. L clenched his hands around his knees, eyeballing the screen. When Wammy came in with a pot of tea, L didn't stir.

"What's going on?" Came Wammy's level voice, placing the steaming pot before him.

"It seems that The Group have updated their cyber-security already." L said evenly, looking down to stare at the teapot. "To tell you the truth, I'm quite impressed. I didn't think they'd have the wits to change it only a week after changing it the first time."

L poured a cup of tea, and dropped several sugar cubes into it. He stirred it pensively, watching the tea whorl into a dark vortex. Wammy took a seat next to him and starting flicking through a newspaper.

"I wonder if this means they know I'm working on the case? He pondered. "No crime-syndicate with any knowledge of the police would expect them to hack through those firewalls in less than a week." Wammy chuckled in assent.

The tea was still scalding, but L liked it that way. The hot sugary syrup comforted him like no other liquid could. L felt the sugar reach his brain almost immediately, and reached for the keyboard. He'd just have to start re-hacking. He had a couple of other lines of investigation, he was working on getting a spy into the business for instance, but that was a much slower process. He wanted some evidence faster than that.

Wammy went to bed in the neighbouring bedroom. Hours passed, and L typed. This wasn't as straightforward as before. Every technique he tried was foiled by the new defence system. He'd been feeling around it for four hours now, and couldn't work out a weak spot. L could feel a tight bubble welling inside him, frustration, stress, annoyance, a little shame at his inability to see through the logic of the cyber-wall. He ate a strawberry meditatively, and tried to neutralise his feelings. They would not help him think about this challenge logically.

When he looked up again, it was almost six, and some feeble light was trickling in around the curtain. L narrowed his eyes with annoyance. _I've got nowhere, in six whole hours. This is not the same style of defence before. If I'm not mistaken, The Group has very wisely brought in some 'professional' help. Damn. Whoever they've got has quite a talent._

It was no use trying to do anymore right now, even L's tireless brain was tiring of staring at coding and 'Access Denied' messages. He remembered the girl from the park. For the entire day he'd been sure that he wouldn't go. There was no reason to, she'd never know where or who he was, no point putting himself at further risk of exposure. She'd probably be annoyed at him breaking his promise, but that hadn't mattered. However, now he was at this dead end with the hacking, maybe it would do him some good to get the exercise. He might come back with some inspiration.

 _So what do you reckon so far?_


	5. Chapter 5: Strange Man in the Park Again

_I hope someone's reading and enjoying this haha = ]_

Rose warmed up in the dim morning light. It was a dull grey morning, not like yesterday. The grass and evergreens were damp with dew, and a wood pigeon cooed rhythmically in a tree somewhere. She didn't really expect the stranger to come; he had come across as quite an erratic and avoidant type. Probably shied away from close human relationships. Though hadn't he said he was in this part of town visiting friends? That seemed odd to her.

To her surprise, she heard soft footsteps padding into the space between the rhododendrons and laurels only a few seconds later. She looked up from her hamstring stretch, and there was the man, hands in his pockets, in a posture somewhere between nonchalance and awkwardness. Though his face betrayed little expression, the silky black eyes betrayed a little confusion. He clearly wasn't sure he'd made the right decision coming back.

"I didn't think you'd come back," she teased.

"Neither did I. I couldn't sleep, so..." He trailed off.

Rose nodded empathetically. This made sense of those dark rings around his eyes. "I have trouble sleeping too."

"So, you want to train?" He asked, pulling a sugar cube out of his pocket, and slipping it between his lips. Rose watched the action bemusedly, and shuddered a little. Her rigorous eating habits were repulsed by the idea of consuming pure sugar, or even consuming any food for _fun_ rather than necessity. _Ewww._

"Sure. Jiu-Jitsu, or...?"

The man crunched a second sugar cube between his teeth. "I know most martial arts to a degree," he responded casually.

Rose grinned. "Excellent. So do I. Then shall we blend whatever styles we like?"

"Certainly. Let's see if it's just as easy to beat you."

 _Easy_! Rose growled at his taunt. L watched the play of emotion over her face amusedly. She looked dangerous when angry, tensed like a cornered animal, her brown fringe hanging over narrowed hazel eyes.

"You know that match was close, I know what you're doing, don't try to rile me!"

Rose dived straight into an attack, no holds barred. The stranger accommodated the force of it easily, rolling away from the strength of her blows, spinning away, only to spin back and retaliate with lightening speed. They fought intensely, the grass getting kicked into mud beneath their feet, the wood pigeon in the tree nearby flying off in shock. Rose punched, kicked, span, blocked elbowed, ducked. Only once in a while would either one of their blows sneak past the other's defences. The match was lasting far longer than the day before, but neither would give up. She could see her own steely resolve reflected in his face.

Ten minutes later, their breath ragged, muscles screaming, their limbs like numb bags of jelly, both collapsed onto their knees on the muddy floor almost simultaneously, incapable of continuing. They gazed at each other, panting, exhilarated, saying nothing. Rose saw the black locks of his hair sticking to his neck and face with sweat, saw for the first time a blush of colour in his pale cheeks. He looked so much weller, so much more human with colour in his face. There was a faint glow of innocent, boyish happiness about him. In an odd way, he looked rather beautiful, like a half-starved, ragged grey wolf let out of captivity.

L stared at his opponent without realising for a long time what he was doing. Her green-golden hazel eyes were wide with exertion, gazing back at him between dark eyelashes. Her mouth was parted as she tried to regain her breath, the curve of her lips looked as smooth as the inside of a seashell. L felt a powerful desire to reach out and touch those lips, felt his body stir with some feeling he hadn't felt in years, even felt his hand twitch with the urge to reach towards her. Realising with horror what was happening to him, he pulled his knees up in front of him to his normal sitting position, clenched his knees with his hands, and looked pointedly away, face blank.

Rose watched as a burning glow in his eyes, followed by fright, was quickly superseded by a devastating blankness. The veil was pulled over his face so quickly that she almost doubted what she'd seen. _What a curious man_. _Who is he_?

"What's your name?"

"Ryuzaki."

So she'd been right about the Eastern blood. "What's that, Chinese? Japanese?"

"Japanese. My father's side. What's yours?" He didn't really care to learn anything about her, but it was worth checking up on her when he got home, just in case she turned out to be some kind of spy.

Rose had to forcibly stop her sudden impulse to tell him her real name. "Fen, Fenella Green. What do you do?"

L assumed this meant what he did for a job, and thought quickly. "I work with computers. It's all pretty boring stuff, but I'm good at it."

"Cool. I'm puzzle creator, for newspapers and magazines. Crosswords, Sudoku, Word Puzzles, that kinda thing, you might have seen some of mine before. Actually, I'm on a course learning new Japanese puzzle games at the moment." She smiled at the genuine flicker of interest he showed at her occupation.

"I like puzzles." L pulled a sugar-cube out of his pockets and sucked on it wistfully. Rose shuddered again, and he noticed her staring at his action.

"Err, would you like a sugar cube?" He figured she was probably jealous.

"Urgghh, hell no! Why do you DO that to your teeth! And your body!" She exclaimed in revolt.

"Sugar?" He asked, seeming realistically surprised at her disgust. "It's the only food that sustains my reasoning abilities at full capacity. It's important for writing computer code, you know," he added, realising he may have said too much. "But tell me, are your puzzles difficult?" He deflected.

Rose shook her head regretfully. "Unfortunately I'm never allowed to make properly difficult ones, because the public wouldn't be able to solve them. It's pretty frustrating actually!"

"Yes, I can imagine." He brought his thumb up to the corner of his mouth and rested it on his lip thoughtfully. "I reckon I could solve them, you know."

She raised her eyebrows. "Is that a challenge?"

"I suppose it is." He flashed a little smiled at her, and Rose felt curiously dizzy. It was probably the aftermath of the fight.

"Well..." she floundered, "I could set you some."

L suddenly realised that he was encouraging communications with a stranger. "I told you, I'm leaving tomorrow, that can't happen," he backtracked quickly.

"Of course. Perhaps I'll sneak in an extra hard one into The Observer tomorrow, a special edition, and you can do it from afar," Rose offered. She didn't really know why she was doing this, except out of curiosity to test Ryuzaki's confidence in his skills.

L thought for a moment. There didn't seem to be any danger in such an arrangement, she wouldn't ever hear off him again. And he _really_ liked puzzles. "That sounds ideal." He stood up abruptly. "Good to meet you Fenella Green. Thank you for the fights."

His parting words were impeccably mannered, but said in such a monotone drawl that they sounded like sarcasm. Rose was a little sad to see the lanky stranger go. He was bizarre company to have, she never knew quite what was going on. "The pleasure was all mine Ryuzaki! I hope you enjoy the puzzle tomorrow."

He had already had his back turned, and was padding out of the alcove. He responded without turning around. "I hope you make it hard enough!"

Rose grinned. _It's like that, is it? Then of course I shall._

After the morning's course and another hour or so or tortuous socialising with vacuous, tittering journalists and crossword makers, Rose was incredibly relieved to be alone once more. A man called Daniel had been trying to get her attention all lunchtime. She had never really understood why people got lonely. Being by oneself was infinitely more restful, and normally far more interesting, than being forced to interact with others. _Though_... Her mind involuntarily recalled the intensity of the fight with Ryuzaki that morning, the pressure of his compact body, the obsidian, pooling eyes that had gazed at her with such vitality... _His company was alright._ Once she'd given the bug for the police station to Jimmy Randall she'd make Ryuzaki a puzzle so difficult that he'd tear his hair out with frustration.

Rose met up with Jimmy outside the same cafe he always frequented. It was raining lightly, so they sat under the canopy whilst he smoked.

"I need you to set a bug in the room where L speaks to whoever knows about him."

Jimmy coughed, halfway between a genuine cough and a parody of shock. "Come on now Rose, a little info here and there is alright, I work in the rooms with all the records after all, but sneaking into one I don't even work in? They're bound to notice that."

Rose surreptitiously dangled a thick envelope of cash in front of him. She saw his face contort with greed and scoffed with contempt at him in her mind. "Come on Jimmy, you know it's in your interests really. If this L person works out the case and we go down, no more juicy bonuses for you."

"Hmm, that may be." He sighed as if deeply conflicted. "You'll make sure you edit the security footage right?"

She assured him she would, and they parted ways, Rose catching a tube back to her hotel room so she could work on her puzzle for Ryuzaki and her false trails for L. Life was good. She felt fulfilled. Was this what ordinary stupid people felt like all the time, constantly challenged by what they were doing? She somewhat envied them. As her mind turned towards what puzzle to make for Ryuzaki, some inspiration struck her. She'd give it the personal touch. She'd never see him again, but she wanted to shared something with him, give him a clue he'd never realise was a clue about her real name. Without realising, he'd know more about her than most people. The joke pleased Rose, and she put on some relaxing guitar music and set about the task with excitement.


	6. Chapter 6: Puzzles, Codes, Bananas

_In this chapter, Rose's traps for L are developing nicely, and he tries to tackle her puzzle. Enjoy!_

It was six in the morning again, and L still hadn't made a single bit of headway with the hacking. He wouldn't let his pride get in the way anymore, he'd just ring Wedy. His conviction that he could do it alone wasn't worth upholding if it meant delaying the case.

"Hey Wedy, are you busy?"

"Well well, look who it is," drawled the blond American woman. "It's a bit early in the morning for a date, ain't it?"

"I simply couldn't contain myself any longer," he responded drily. "I'm at The Golden Lion Hotel, room 83. Be as fast as you can."

In the distance L could hear Wammy getting up and pottering about. "Could you bring some tea through when you come?" Wammy called something unintelligible in assent.

Wedy arrived swiftly, and he showed her what he'd been doing. She studied the screen intently, her full lips pouting with concentration. L watched her detachedly. She was undoubtedly gorgeous, but to L her beauty was only an objective fact, not an emotive pull. _Not like that feeling yesterday..._ He pushed it from his mind, and waited patiently for Wedy to come up with some conclusions.

An hour and three cups of tea later, Wedy sat back, frowning.

"It's not looking good, you know. It's one of the best jobs I've seen in ages."

L nodded. He knew he hadn't just been stupid, but he had to check. "Then I must be right in thinking that The Group have found a new security manager."

"Without a doubt. Though who, I can't think."

It was incredibly useful that Wedy had used to be a criminal. She was the perfect double agent, and had the sort of long-term intimate knowledge of the UK and US crime scene that a detective could only dream of. "Is there no one, or group, that you'd even slightly expect could be behind this?" He probed gently.

Wedy thought for a moment. "The only person I ever knew with this kind of skill was a hacker that worked for The Group years ago. He got imprisoned though, it couldn't be him. He was a good guy, actually. Out of all those crooked bastards, I trusted him. He used to look after this orphaned girl, poor kid, she got born into a crime syndicate and watched her parents die when the police raided them."

L sympathised with the girl. He knew far too well how it was to lose one's parents. "So where's that girl now?"

Wedy shrugged. "She left when he died, never saw her again."

"And there's no chance he passed on those skills to the girl?"

"She certainly watched him a lot while he coded, she was a clever girl. I feel it's unlikely, but it's still possible I suppose."

"What was her name?"

"Rose. Dunno about a second name."

"That's a shame. That was a long-shot anyway, probably about a 2% chance, never mind." He sighed. "I'm just going to have to take the slower routes towards catching The Group."

Wedy left just as Wammy returned from the corner shop, bearing a couple of newspapers and a handful of chocolate bars.

"I got The Observer, just as you requested."

"Thank you Wammy." L took the crisp paper and flicked to the back. To his surprise, Fenella Green had been as good as her word. There on the penultimate page was a full-sheet puzzle special. ' _Brain-bashing for the terrifically talented'_ read the caption. L moved from the computer to crouch on a squishy armchair next to Wammy, pencil in hand.

"What's got you so excited for this newspaper all of a sudden?" Asked the elderly man, his own newspaper balanced on his knee.

"I met a girl in the park who makes puzzles, she said she'd put an especially difficult one in for me."

L saw Wammy's eyebrows raise at the information that he had interacted with a stranger long enough for such a thing to result. "Actually, that reminds me Wammy, could you check up on her details just in case? Fenella Green is the name."

"Right you are."

L turned his mind to the puzzle. It was a combined number and word game he had never seen before. Certain spaces had to be filled out with numbers according to a missing mathematical rule. These numbers in turn provided a description of a technical diagram of something. The meaning of the picture would provide the clue on a linguistic rule that had to be discovered to crack a code, which would in turn reveal the final words. L's naturally downturned mouth lifted itself in a smile.

A little while later, L was pretty sure he'd worked out the mathematical rule. The puzzle had stretched his mind already. What with the hacking and this, he'd been having quite a pleasantly strenuous week. Patiently, he tried to figure out how the numbers he had put in the blank spaces would correlate to some kind of drawing. This was even harder. It was a full hour before he'd figured that one. In the open gap in the middle of the page, he carefully started plotting points. When they were all down, he could see that the lines fell naturally into swirls and arcs around a darkened centre-point. The shape of an elegant rose appeared on the paper.

 _A rose._ He faltered for a moment. Why was that word already prescient in his mind this morning? _Aaah, the orphaned girl that Wedy spoke of. Weird_. L knew all too well that life was full of meaningless coincidences, but something about the rose in front of him made the hair on his neck stand up.

"Wammy, Fenella isn't an orphan, is she?"

Wammy scrolled through some data borrowed from the government. "No, doesn't look like it. Born with normal parents in Herefordshire apparently."

"Good." That was cleared then. He returned to working out the linguistic code. The word 'rose' provided the first clue of the pattern. It was another full hour before he had figured it out. The coded paragraph was a poem:

 _I can't sleep; no light burns;_

 _All round, darkness, irksome sleep.  
Only the monotonous  
Ticking of the clock,  
The old wives chatter of fate,  
Trembling of the sleeping night,  
Mouse-like scurrying of life...  
Why do you disturb me?  
What do you mean tedious whispers?  
Is it the day I have wasted  
Reproaching me or murmuring?  
What do you want from me?  
Are you calling me or prophesying?  
I want to understand you,  
I seek a meaning in you... –Alexander Pushkin, 'Lines written at night during insomnia'_

L approved – a poem about insomnia was entirely appropriate. Now he just to crack the final solution, the last two words... _Where was that pattern..._ In twenty minutes he had it, and filled in the spaces. The letters fit perfectly.

 _Good morning_ , it said.

That was, Fenella Green said. L's face split into a grin. "Good morning to you too," he whispered softly to the empty air. What a splendid way to start the day. He wished he could thank her, but knew regretfully that the puzzle had to be their final interaction. L knew what happened when he got close to people. Either A, his detachment and weirdness drove them away, or B, they died. Neither was an option anymore. He just couldn't risk it.

Jimmy had successfully set Rose's bug up by the next day, and she'd destroyed the CCTV evidence. When she got back from the days puzzle course, to her delight the bug had already recorded a meeting with L, or rather Watari and the computer. She rewound to where the meeting began and listened intently. It was a few minutes before L joined them.

"Good morning sergeant, good morning Met." Came the distorted voice. The police officers happily or grudgingly said hello.

"You'll be interested to know there's been some developments over the last two days. Firstly, in my attempts to get into The Group's computers through a suspect John Walding, it has transpired that The Group have heavily updated their security systems to something nigh-impenetrable." Rose heard the police grumble, and smiled with glee.

"Secondly," the bizarre voice continued, "the new style and sophistication of the defence suggests to me that The Group have taken the help of a far superior criminal mind to defend their systems. I advise you all to take care with your own cyber-security. Whilst this scenario is unfortunate in many ways, it also strengthens the case for Walding's involvement greatly. I think he is a line of enquiry we should pursue."

There was a pause. "Thirdly," continued the disembodied voice, "The Group clearly felt itself under pressure enough to change their security incredibly quickly. No offence, but I don't think they'd be running scared from the police alone. I think this means that they somehow found out that I have joined forces with you."

Rose heard a couple of policeman grumble with offence. "...therefore," L's distorted voice continued, "I can only conclude that someone in the police has leaked information, or police information has been stolen somehow. This is unacceptable." Rose heard the grumbles evolve into vocal protests, and raised her eyebrows with admiration. She was impressed he'd inferred that, she'd have to be extra careful. "All in all, keep a close eye on the goings on about the police station, and report any unusual activity you made have seen or heard about in the last few days. Meanwhile, keep your attention focused on infiltrating a worker into GoodPharma, and to discover anything relevant about the other suspects."

Rose giggled to herself. L was very good, but with access to this information, she undoubtedly had the upper hand. Now his attention would turn from the hacking to other lines of enquiry, just as she needed him to. The false trails to test and slow down L were being laid down, and he should walk right into them.

A week and two hotels later, L stared at the man on the screen. It had been an odd week. One evening hacking, he'd finally found an avenue of attack through John Walding's firewall, only to find nothing incriminating on his whole computer. This had knocked his confidence a little – L was _sure_ that Walding was connected, the weird movements reported by his tail, the unusual bonuses... But there'd been nothing. After that, several kilos of cocaine bearing the stereotypical packaging of drugs trafficked by The Group had turned up in a ship full of bananas from Southern Africa. This had surprised L too, he had been fairly sure that The Group only imported from South America, and disguised the illegal narcotics amongst GoodPharma's legal pharmaceuticals. He really didn't like the idea that he'd be so wrong on all accounts.

And now there was this drug dealer, already known by the police and caught that morning, with lots more cocaine packaged in the same way, who was willing to tell them everything he knew in return for a short sentence. L munched a banana, and wondered if the ship it had arrived on had been full of drugs too. It was strange, the case finally seemed to be picking up, but somehow he felt like he was further away than ever. The man on the screen, in confinement in a brightly lit room somewhere, tapped dazedly on his knees. He hardly looked cheerful, but L noticed a distinct lack of the panic and fear that usually showed itself in a dealer's face. Finishing the banana, he turned on the microphone and cleared his throat. The man twitched at the noise.

"Robert Jones, this is L. Earlier this morning you were caught in possession of a large quantity of cocaine. You are without doubt guilty and will be sentenced to prison."

L observed the man's face dip a little with resignation. Robert knew this, of course. "Furthermore," L continued, "the drugs in question exhibited a number of features that link them with a criminal syndicate known as 'The Group'. For this reason along with other minor evidence, you are under question as low-level affiliate of that syndicate. You have the right to remain silent, or plead not guilty, but be aware that if you provide us with all the information you know about The Group genuinely and helpfully, the police shall look kindly upon you when determining your sentence. Do you understand?"

Robert Jones nodded. "I understand." He was a stout man, somewhere between muscled and pudgy, with a few tattoos sprinkled over his arms and neck. Short hair and stubble framed his square, porous face.

"Okay. What do you choose?"

L saw Robert sigh, and glance around the room as if looking for the right answer. "There's no point me pleading not guilty, I know your evidence is too strong. And I really don't wanna be in prison, I wanna make the sentence as short as pos'. But if I tell you anything..." he trailed off. "Well, you know what they'll do to me when I'm let out. They'll kill me or torture me, or hurt my family. No point shortening my sentence just to die when I leave."

"Jones, if you help us the police and I will be able to guarantee your physical and psychological safety after prison, and that of your family too. It is well within our power. You have my word."

"How can I be so sure?"

"You can't, you'll just have to trust me." Several expressions played over Robert's face: indecision, fear, hopelessness; resolve; acceptance. It was so easy to read him that L had the bizarre feeling he was doing it deliberately. _Is he?_ L wondered. _What would be his motive?_

"Okay," Robert said eventually, "I'll tell you what I know. It's not that much of course, I'm small fry to The Group."

The stocky drug dealer started explaining his contact with certain mid-level members, all code-names of course. Robert expanded into his role of distribution from shipping containers to street dealers, and his vague knowledge of where The Group's power extended to. L stopped and probed him on a few details here and there, which he more or less gave up without hitch. _It can't be this simple._ Peering into the screen, L absorbed his bodily movements closely. Robert's eyes flicked up to the right near the beginning of each new sentence, followed by a tensing of his fingers around the fabric of his jeans.

"Robert," he interrupted, "what are the names of your wife and child?"

He looked surprised at the diversion. "Stacy and Damian, why?" There was no flick of the eyes of tensing of the fingers.

"Just so I can make sure of their safety," L responded casually. "And how long have you worked for The Group?"

"Most o' my life to be honest, since I was a teenage lad." Once again, there was no flick of the eyes, or clutching at his jeans.

"Okay. Finally, could you repeat the description of the first man you gave to me?"

"Sure, he was," there was the flick of the eyes, "about six foot, wore a suit," there was the tensing of his hand on his leg, "brown hair, and a deep London voice."

"Thank you, Robert." L's eyes narrowed. _He's lying, I'm sure of it. Better get on the offensive._ "Robert, why are you lying?"

The man's eyes widened with surprise. Did they widen in surprise because he hadn't been lying and had no reason to be accused, or because he'd been surprised to get caught?

"Nah, I'm not lying, what would be the point in lying when I'm stuck in this situation?"

"That's precisely the question I was hoping you'd answer," L responded evenly.

Robert laughed. "S'pose it is. Well sorry L, I'm not lying, so I can't answer your question," he said confidently.

L pondered for a moment. Surely if he _had_ just been caught lying, Robert wouldn't be this confident? Surely he'd be just slightly fazed? There was a strength and satisfaction in how Robert was holding his jaw that seemed to say everything was going perfectly for him, and it didn't make any sense.

"Okay." L said eventually. "That'll do for now. I may question you again later, get some rest meanwhile." L disconnected the microphone, but left the camera on _._ He sighed. What was going on here?

"I've got the test results for that cocaine, L." Wammy's soothing voice broke into his glum reverie. The elderly man handed a sheaf of papers and a slice of Victoria sponge to his young boss, his ward, his project, his genius, his lonesome detective.

"Thank you Wammy." L perused the results slowly, licking the cream and jam from the cake off his fingers. Would there be anything helpful? He didn't know. After five minutes, he noticed an odd fact amidst the expected data. L's body froze, and his mind whirred. _What does that mean...?_ He was frozen solid for another two straight minutes, before the pieces of the puzzle started to come together.

 _Thoughts, reader? I hope it's okay – it's pretty hard writing L's character!_


	7. Chapter 7: Worlds Move Toward Each Other

_Thanks WildfireDreams for your encouragement!_

It was over a week since Rose had made the game for Ryuzaki, and the last day of the puzzle course and her time in London. She knew she'd need to come back to converse with The Group again, but she'd have to make up another excuse. All week she'd been setting the three false trails for L, and listening intently to his progress when he talked to the police. Everything was going to plan.

As she absentmindedly scrolled through the news on her laptop, a window popped up from her surveillance program informing her that people had begun to talk in the L room at the station. She turned up the volume, and moved to the hotel bed so she could listen in more comfort.

"Good afternoon sergeant, and the rest of you, I've called an extra meeting to share some interesting findings that have surfaced this morning." The distorted L voice paused. "I have reason to believe that out of the three leads this week... none have been genuine."

Rose's jaw dropped. The police muttered in shock. _He's figured it out already?_

"How on earth could you come to that conclusion?" Came the sergeant's voice.

"Well it's like this," the distorted voice began. "Firstly, the apparently impenetrable firewall of Walding suddenly revealed a fairly straightforward path through its barriers. Me and a hacker even better than me were incapable of finding a route through for over a week. I highly doubt that it is possible that someone as clearly skilled as the developer of that firewall could have missed such an obvious flaw. And why hadn't we spotted it before? It was almost as if the flaw _appeared_. Furthermore, Walding's computer – apart from evidence of a minor affair on his wife – was absolutely spotless. This innocence is surprising after the various reasons I had for investigating him in the first place. The whole thing was just rather too... _convenient_.

Secondly, several kilos of cocaine turn up on the banana ship from South Africa. It shows all the markings of The Group, the right isotopes of the drug, the right packaging etc, but points to a geographical base that we didn't suspect, totally throwing off our previous lines of investigation. This stumped me for a while, but on a closer look at the cocaine, I found one very incongruous fact. Due to the deterioration of a certain radioactive compound, I knew the cocaine was only produced 12 days ago."

Rose cursed under her breath. She should have supervised which batch they'd planted on the boat.

"What's the significance of that?" asked a police officer.

"The boat the cocaine was found on left South Africa _14 days ago_ , two days before the cocaine was synthesised. The boat never made port on the journey. So either they managed to make cocaine on the boat somehow, which is basically impossible, or the cocaine was planted there later.

"Thirdly," L's voice rose over the confused chatter of the police force, "the dealer you caught this morning 'confessed' to everything, but if my somatic analysis is anything to go by (and it usually is), almost everything he said was a lie. Now why do you think that was?"

The police chattered for a moment longer before a voice posed tentatively, "was he trying to confuse us?"

"Yes, that is my own conclusion. But not of his own accord. Think about it: without warning, these three leads appeared almost simultaneously. In every case, they gave us information that made us doubt our current suspicions. I think whoever overhauled their cyber-security _deliberately_ made a hole in the firewall and a 'fake' computer at the end of it. I think The Group, or even the very same security mastermind, had the cocaine _deliberately_ planted on that banana ship to move our investigations away from South America and GoodPharma. And I think The Group, or that same advisor, got Robert Jones caught _deliberately_ to feed us a disorientating pack of lies. It's lucky that they made the slip with the age of the cocaine, or I might not have trusted my intuition on this."

The police force were muttering furiously. Rose twisted her hair around her fingers. She didn't know whether she was angry, surprised, or pleased. Part of her was pissed off that she hadn't fooled him, part of her was glad that L couldn't be taken for a fool. She'd have been disappointed in her opponent if he hadn't worked it out.

"This sequence of events also makes me sure of one more thing," came the distorted voice. "I am now absolutely sure that The Group knows of my involvement, to go to such lengths. They certainly knew I was hacking Walding, at the very least. I'll admit I'm ashamed for wasting my time over their diversions for so long, but it had to be seriously considered. The problem is, of course, that this means for certain that they have somehow infiltrated or spied on the police."

The room was silent. "Therefore..." the distorted voice drawled, "I feel it necessary to take a slightly unorthodox precaution. It won't be too everybody's taste," L cautioned drily, "but I believe it will be the most fool-proof way to get the desired result. Please inform every member of your force that if they were the one to reveal information about L to anyone, absolutely anyone, then they should come forward and tell me everything. This will be our true lead. If I can establish their honesty, I'll reward them with upward of one million pounds, and provide them with a false identity and permanent visa to a country of their choice in order for them to evade the repercussions of The Group if they found out."

Rose heard gasps over the speaker, and felt a weight drop in her own stomach. _Shit. Shit shit shit. How does he seem to know Jimmy's biggest weakness? I suppose it stands to reason that a crooked cop loves money_.

The meeting finished, and Rose shut her laptop with a roar of frustration. She was going to have to be very careful now. Of course Jimmy knew her as Lily, but he'd be able to give a very accurate description of her looks and typical requests. She didn't doubt that he'd go to L. One million pounds was a lot of money. Luckily, in her anger she remembered to smash up the phone she used for contacting Jimmy. _Don't want to be tracked on that_.

She sat cross-legged on the floor and calmed her mind. Everything was fine. She'd just bide her time, and use some messengers in her place if need be. There were plenty of small-time criminals that owed her a favour. Tomorrow she'd go back to Bristol and lay low for a while. _Piece of cake._

Rose's work phone buzzed.

"Hey Fen, it's Daniel, you know, from the course?"

"Oh hi Daniel, how're you doing?"

"Yeah good thanks. Was just wondering what time we should swing by and pick you up tonight? You know, for the social?"

Rose groaned inwardly. _Buggar_. She'd forgotten she had committed to going out 'on the raz' with the rest of the puzzle course attendees. Sometimes she regretted her decision to make Fenella Green a confident socialite – to keep up appearances she _had_ to attend this sort of thing. Though it was suitably different from her real hibernation tendencies to not make Fenella a suspect. Daniel was a crossword creator for The Telegraph. He'd also been trying to impress Rose for the last several lunchtimes.

"Brilliant, I was wondering about that myself. How about around 10?"

"Sounds perfect. The Mariott on Whitland Street, right?"

"That's the one, see you later!"

Rose irritably put on some irritable music, and had a shower. Then she proceeded irritably to dress up, in an elegant green dress. With chestnut hair, hazel eyes, and lightly tanned skinned, dark emerald green was indubitably the colour for her. With Fen's makeup and handbag and bun in place, rehearsing appropriately sociable conversation-starters, she headed down to the bar. The only way she could get through tonight's tedious company was by being properly _sloshed_.

L spun idly on a computer chair at the desk in his hotel suite. It wasn't quite as a fancy a room as usual, for a all the penthouse suites had been booked up for the week when he arrived, meaning he was in a 'normal' en suite for once. Still, it was fairly pleasant, with an attractive Parisian-style balcony overlooking the old cobbled street. It was mid-evening, and there was little L could do. After the meeting that afternoon with the police, all he felt he needed to do was wait until the informant came forward. L had studied the records of all those who worked in that London department and he had his suspicions, but he didn't think he'd need to follow them up. _They'll come forward_.

Considering how little sugar he'd eaten in the last hour, L was surprisingly energetic. Since fighting Fenella Green the week before, he'd become self-conscious of how little he actually _moved_. He would never get fat of course, just thinking and not sleeping burned that off for him, but he was probably horrendously unfit. _What unusual thoughts_ , L noted to himself. He never usually thought about his own wellbeing. Wammy snoozed gently in the armchair beside him. With nothing to do, he might as well go out, at least into the hotel. Perhaps he could get some of those mints from the bar downstairs...


	8. Chapter 8: L Gets Drunk

_I like this chapter – first erotic encounter!_

Two generous glasses of Merlot later, Rose was almost ready for the evening. She ordered a third, perusing a magazine as she swung gently on a barstool. Just after 10, her course 'friends' poured into the hotel bar.

"Fen! Oh my god don't you look _gorgeous_ in that dress-"

"Oh hi Fen! Sorry we're late..."

"Hey there, you nearly ready to go?"

"Fen!" Cut in Daniel through the hubbub, as Rose tried to say hello to everyone. He was a tall and commanding figure with gleaming blond hair, a casual suit, a winning smile, and devastatingly handsome bone-structure. Unfortunately, Daniel was also a boring, self-absorbed, overconfident twat. He leant in to kiss her on the cheek, and Fen tried not to pull a face in revolt at the stench of his aftershave.

"Hi Daniel, hi everyone, so good to see you all outside a corporate function room! I've only got half a glass of wine left, I won't be long." Rose gave them a gorgeous smile. Daniel sat himself beside her on another stool.

"I'm glad you chose to come out, Fen." He told her, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards, as he looked at her appreciatively. "For two reasons."

"Oh? And what would they be?" She asked out of necessity.

"Firstly, the jazz bar we're going to is the best I've ever been too, you'd have missed out rotten if you didn't come. The band tonight are also _par excellence_ , they're from New Orleans. It was on my recommendation that we go to see them actually," he informed her.

"It was your idea? How excellent. You better hope they live up to your opinion," she teased gently.

"Oh they well," he said confidently. "More importantly Fen," he paused, as if to add extra gravity to his words, "I wanted a chance to get to know you better. We've chatted a little over the last two weeks, and I think you're an incredible woman. I was hoping you'd come out tonight, so that we could get to know each other better."

Alarm bells rang in Rose's head. _Bollocks. It was a bad idea coming out, to heck with Fen's 'character', now I've got to fend off this silly prick_. He was watching her self-assuredly. He clearly didn't imagine that a woman was never _not_ desire his attention and fall at his feet. _Urrrghh_. The stupid, boring people that thought they were intelligent and interesting were the worst. What was she to say? Before Rose had managed to form a suitably modest and diverting reply, an oddly familiar, monotonous voice spoke behind her, interrupting all of her thoughts.

"Excuse me, can I get three packs of extra-strong mints? Not the sugar-free ones please, the ones with sugar."

Rose span her stool round in shock. "Ryuzaki!"

There he was, slouched at the bar right beside her. As she called his name, she saw terror, shock, pleasure, confusion, pour over his face in an instant, before that mysterious veil fell over him once again.

"Fenella Green," he said calmly, "what a pleasant surprise." There it was again, the impeccable politeness and the drawling sarcasm. Did he know that's what he sounded like?

"Please, call me Fen."

"Yes, of course. Thank you for the puzzle."

Rose grinned. "It was hard, right? So did you work it out?"

"Yes. The diagram was a rose, the code a poem by Pushkin about insomnia, and the final message 'good morning'. I must say, I enjoyed the personal touches."

"Impeccable! And how long did it take you?"

Ryuzaki shrugged, his thumb resting in the corner of his mouth, and rubbed his feet together. She noticed they were still bare. "I dunno, maybe... two hours?"

Rose raised her eyebrows. "I'm impressed, Ryuzaki! There's very few people in the world that could do it so quickly."

His downturned mouth lifted in a small smile. "I just really like puzzles."

"Ahem," came Daniels voice, as he approached their conversation, unhappy to be interrupted in his wooing of Fen. "Who's this then?"

"My training partner," Rose explained. Well, it was true.

"How good to meet you, Ryuzaki," Daniel said disingenuously, as he eyeballed the strange man's bagged eyes and scruffy clothes.

"Good to meet you too," he responded.

"Well Fen, we really should be leaving."

 _No! I don't want to have to go with these stupid people! Not when fate has just dangled the opportunity to spend time with someone of equal intelligence in front of me! What a stupid situation. Would he come with us? Such a long shot. But worth a try._

"Hey Ryuzaki, how about you come with us? I know how much you like jazz. Please, it'll be fun, you'll love it."

L glanced in bemusement between Fen and the blonde man. What an odd situation. The blond man's face was sneering at him, looking down his nose figuratively as well as literally. Fen's eyes were pleading him. He didn't need his skills in somatic analysis to tell that she really, really wanted him to come, and Daniel really didn't.

"Don't be silly Fen, you can see your friend doesn't want to come out, look at how he's dressed! He's not even got shoes on!" Daniel snorted. "Come on, let's go." L saw Daniel put his hand on her waist protectively to try and guide her away, and bristled at the presumption of it. He should really just leave now, but...

"He can pop and change Daniel, it will only take a minute!"

"That's right Daniel, it will only take a minute to put some shoes on," he interjected. "And I certainly love jazz, after all."

 _What are you doing? This is ridiculous! This is dangerous! Unacceptable!_ a voice in L's head demanded. _Sorry,_ he answered it. _I couldn't help it_. The sight of the unwanted hand on his acquaintances waist had made his hackles rise. And it was that darn competitive streak coming out in him. Before him was a confident, sophisticated man, assuming that not only was he vastly superior to the weirdo in front of him, but also presuming that he could dominate Fen's decisions. L wanted nothing more than the silly man to know how much she would prefer his company.

When he went to get his white trainers, the only shoes he owned, L's rational self-preservation kicked in and he nearly locked the door and didn't leave. Ever since arriving at Wammy's orphanage, the importance of keeping his identity a secret had been impressed upon him. On the whole, this meant sacrificing that thing that people called a 'social life', just in case he slipped up, or they found out something they shouldn't. L didn't really know if he minded. It was simply the way it'd always been.

However, in the end, two things made him leave the en suite. Firstly, he reminded himself that this was the girl that had sent him the impressively challenging puzzle – if anyone deserved taking the risk for, it was probably her. Secondly, the look in her eyes had been a genuine plea. It was the only moral thing to do, now that he had committed.

As Ryuzaki rejoined the entourage, Rose noticed the confused glances of her course friends. None of them were as obviously rude as Daniel however, and greeted him politely when they'd recovered from their confusion. They left the hotel, and walked for several blocks towards the jazz bar, and when she could extricate herself from the chatter of a couple of women, Rose dropped back to where Ryuzaki was walking alone.

"Thank you so much, I'm sorry I asked you to do this," she said guiltily.

"Not at all. You were clearly in some distress. Over, I imagine, the unwanted attentions of a certain gentleman?"

"Yeah, that's right. I was looking forward to going out until he made it clear what his intentions were," she lied. "Didn't feel like I could back out at that point."

"I understand."

"Why are you still here, anyway? And in a different hotel?" Rose accused.

L sighed – he'd expected the question, and had come up with an answer. "When I told you I was visiting friends, I wasn't entirely honest. I'm actually visiting my grandfather, he's ill. I intended to only stay a few days, but when his condition worsened I knew I'd have to stay longer. My room at the other place was booked up for after my stay, so I had to swap."

"Oh." There was an awkward pause, and Rose blushed at her rudeness. "Sorry for asking."

"It's okay, I can see why you asked. Forgive me for not wanting to tell you that on our second meeting, I'm not in the habit of telling things to people I've only just met," Ryuzaki said drily, but he gave a small humorous glance to show that he wasn't annoyed.

"Of course."

"This is it guys," came Daniel's voice from ahead, "down those steps!"

Beneath an old Victorian building, a flight of stairs wound down through iron railings to a discreet door. As Daniel opened the door, a hubbub of light, voices and music spilled out into the otherwise quiet night. As Rose entered, she was greeted by a honeycomb of interconnected underground rooms and alcoves, furnished with dark wood and a rich patterned carpet of gold and red. At one end, in the biggest space was a 5 piece jazz band on a low stage, with a conglomeration of elegantly dressed dancers before them. The rest of the spaces were occupied by small bars serving drinks, wooden tables and chairs, and clusters of armchairs around coffee tables. _Well this is pleasant enough_. She glanced at Ryuzaki to try and establish what he thought of the place, but his pale face was devoid of clues, as his eyes darted quickly around the bar, taking it all in.

"So, do you want a drink?"

He blinked at her in surprise. "A drink?"

"Yeah, a beer, wine, cider, cocktail, shot?"

"But Ryuzaki doesn't drink alcohol," he replied.

"Why ever not?"

"Because it slows you down, jeopardises your memory, your motor functions and intellectual functions, and makes you do things you regret." He responded honestly.

"Well duuhhh, that's part of the point!" Rose laughed. "Does that mean you've _never_ got drunk?"

"No, I haven't."

Rose's jaw dropped. "Well you've got to try it just once! There's lots of fun stuff to it too you know, it isn't just confusion and wasted time, it really helps you let go."

 _Letting go in public is the last thing I need to do_ , L thought, amusedly. "No," he said firmly. "I won't do it."

Rose asked him again, very persuasively, but Ryuzaki still refused. But now she knew that he had never drank alcohol, it seemed like the most important thing in the world for it to happen. _Damn, I'll have to change tack_. "Fair enough," she sighed. "I'll get you something else then. "You like sugary things, right?"

"Correct."

"I'll get some kind of non-alcoholic cocktail for you then." They were at one of the bars by now. "A large glass of your house red and a Margarita please," Rose asked the barman. Once paid, they rejoined a couple of Rose's puzzle course friends sat in some armchairs. The rest had gone to dance already. Rose watched Ryuzaki slip off his shoes and crouch in an armchair next to her in that odd way that's he'd sat in the park the week before.

"Do you always sit that way?"

"When possible," he responded, obliquely.

Rose watched the mystifying man, as he raised the straw of the Margarita to his mouth and drank. His eyes narrowed.

"It's nice, but are you _sure_ there's no alcohol in this?"

"Of course not!" Rose did her best to look offended and innocent. "I wouldn't transgress your boundaries like that Ryuzaki!"

His black eyes probed hers hard for a moment, like a searchlight made of darkness. Rose's insides flipped, but she managed to keep her facial expression constant. "Very well," he said after a moment, continuing to drink. _Hah. Got him._ Rose sipped her wine nonchalantly.

Ten minutes later, as L swirled the ice cubes left in the bottom of his glass, a strange warmth and lightness seemed to enter his limbs. The colours in the room seemed to get softer, and his heartbeat felt different. The mind had somehow... sank, as if his very brain was reclined in a squashy armchair. He basked in it for a moment eyes shut, before jolting rigid.

"You!" He stared accusingly at Fen next to him. "You lied to me!" _More interestingly, she MANAGED to lie to me. Damn, she was convincing. I'm glad most of my suspects aren't as good as her._ She gave him a devilish smile, and L found it impossible to resent her. He felt too _nice_ to resent anyone at all.

"See, it's not that bad, is it?" Rose teased, and watch him bring him thumb to his mouth and play with his lip as he pondered what he was feeling.

"No, it's not too bad at all. My reasoning powers are slower, but they're not otherwise impaired."

"Let's get another!"

Rose dragged him by the wrist to the bar, and ordered a pitcher of Tequila Sunrise. As she went to pay, he interrupted. "No, allow me. As you can imagine, computer programmers like me don't get out much. I've never have an excuse to spend my money, let me buy it."

"If you insist."

"I do," he replied. And Rose smiled to herself. Getting Ryuzaki drunk was going far easier than expected.

Unfortunately, when they returned Daniel had come back from the dance floor and seated himself in Ryuzaki's armchair. When Rose offered him hers, he politely declined, and pulled up a wooden chair, balancing himself on it in his crouching position. _How does he manage to look so ridiculous and yet so graceful at the same time?_

"It's great up there Fen, you should have a dance with me soon," Daniel beamed winningly at her.

"Hmm, yes maybe in a bit," she evaded, "I'm not in the mood yet." Rose poured herself some cocktail, and passed the jug to Ryuzaki.

"Okay then, in a bit. What do you think of the place?"

"It's lovely, it's a nice design with all these alcoves and comfy chairs, a proper jazz lounge."

Daniel nodded in approval at her approval, and started droning on about all the famous people that had played or visited it in the past. Rose attempted not to drift off by drinking her cocktail rather fast. The band begun to play a new tune, and thankfully Daniel stopped talking about famous people.

"Aah, this is a great number! Music in 5/4 is just so fresh-sounding, don't you think?" He asked her, clearly trying to impress her with his knowledge of music. Rose stared at his smooth, confident face, and didn't really know what to say. She was spared from replying, however.

"Mmm, that's just what I was thinking, Daniel," came Ryuzaki's voice between slurps through his straw. Rose saw that he had almost drank the entire rest of the pitcher already. "I like the touch of"... slurp... "slipping in the bar of 6/8 every other sequence, it gives it a real sense of the music just _waiting_ to begin again."... slurp... "Though, without doubt, my favourite element of this piece is the modulation from C7 to Cm7 which entirely shifts the circle of fifths to a much darker atmosphere," he said calmly.

Rose saw Daniel bristle. "So you know this piece well then, Ryuzaki?" He asked, attempting to be conversational.

"No, actually, it's the first time I've ever heard this particular song before." L finished the last of the cocktail, gazing innocently at the large blond man across the coffee table from him. Of course he knew he was inflaming the man. He was just curious to see what would happen.

"How are you so goddamn good at things?" Rose asked him. She felt a genuine sense of wonderment at the scrawny boy-man beside her. "First you can match me in a fight, then you can solve one of my impossible puzzles, and now you seem to know everything about music too!"

Woops, maybe she shouldn't have praised him quite so much, Daniel seemed to be getting very tense beside her. He tried to smile at Ryuzaki, but it turned out more like a scowl. "Yeah, bit of a wonderboy, aren't ya? Not suprising I s'pose, given how clever Fen is."

Rose took the compliment graciously.

"Do you dance, Ryuzaki?" Daniel asked.

"Why, are you asking me to dance?" L replied disarmingly, and watched as Daniel coughed and turned red.

"No, nothing like that, mate."

"Well, if by your question you mean to ask whether I _can_ dance, then the answer is yes. If you mean to ask whether I frequently _do_ dance, then the answer is no. I don't often see the point."

"No, I didn't think you would," Daniel sneered, and stood up. "I'm going to get a drink," he announced, straightening his suit. "And Fen, when I get back, you WILL have a dance with me, I refuse to take no for an answer!" He took her hand, and kissed it with the grace and flamboyance of a prince. As he left, she shuddered, and tried to wipe the feeling of his lips of her hand. _This is a dilemma. What to do_? Turning to look at Ryuzaki, she saw that he had his hands clasped on his knees in front of him, eyes closed, chin resting on his hands, sporting an adorably cute smile. She'd been about to speak, but found herself momentarily paralysed. Without that downturned mouth, and those infinitely dark haunted eyes, he looked so much younger.

L swam about in the pleasant darkness of his brain. He could almost see and touch the music as it vibrated through him. An inexplicable stream of wellbeing coursed through him, and he found himself humming gently. _So this is being drunk? It's not so bad._ A second later, he teetered, and nearly fell off his narrow perch, righting himself just in time and opening his eyes suddenly. Rose was giggling at him. _Oh yeah, the lack of functioning_.

"Ryuzaki, I need to ask you a favour."

"Yes?"

"The thing is, when Daniel comes back, he's gonna ask me to dance. And if I refuse, that would be beyond rude. Which means I need to avoid the question altogether. You follow?"

"Yes...?"

"Which means..." Rose hesitated. _Will he refuse?_ "...that it would be really helpful if you'd dance with me." She watched his ebony eyes widen a little, as he wobbled on his chair.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" He asked dubiously.

"I don't know if it's good, but it's the only way I can see to avoid this situation."

Despite his hazy brain, floating as it was in its new pleasurable strata, L could think of at least seven other successful ways to avoid the situation. But he didn't bring them up. L may have been trained to be detached and logical, but he was still human. And now he was joyfully intoxicated, it felt like music was coursing through his veins, and a beautiful, intelligent, witty woman had asked him to dance. Jumping to his feet, he adjusted to the new orientation for a moment, and steadied himself. "Then lead the way my lady!"

Rose relaxed, and let the body next to her guide her through the music. Ryuzaki hadn't lied, he _could_ dance. While she'd never doubted that he was probably aware of how to technically dance, she hadn't expected him to be so confident, so natural, so – dare she say it – _sensual_. He moved the two of them so gently, so unassumingly, yet with such comprehensive command, such utter control. Rose was out of breath, but not from strenuousness. _Is this what women mean when they say 'he swept me off my feet'?_ She almost laughed at the incongruity of it to his usual hunched back, his tense posture. She'd never felt so paradoxically at home, and yet completely on edge, in someone's arms before.

The song changed to a slower number, but they didn't stop dancing. Whenever they were facing each other, Rose saw that his eyes were less wide than usual. They were still bottomless, but his eyelids had sunk a little, he gazed back at her lazily, dreamily, his whole manner slower and softer than his usual hyper-alert vibe. _So this is what getting him drunk is like. I think I made a fantastic decision_.

L wasn't sure he'd ever felt so alive with sensation. He didn't know whether it the alcohol, the music, or the sight and feeling of the girl next to him, but every perception was heightened, sumptuous. The sight of Fen smiling shyly at him, her almond-shaped eyes glinting with shards of green and gold, gazing up at his with an emotion he couldn't place, was too much. He span her round slowly so he wouldn't be bewitched by those eyes, but that was just as bad. As he folded his arms around her hips and stomach and swayed slowly, he could feel her shallow breathing, he could smell her natural scent in her hair, could feel the curve of her shoulders, back, ass, pressed against him softly. He knew that his body was rising uncontrollably to greet that feeling, and couldn't help but catch his breath and pull her hips tighter at the feeling of her soft body against his solid one. He nuzzled his lips into her bare neck, and felt her entire being ripple in response. He couldn't stop the gentle moan of desire rumble in his throat. He wanted nothing more to press his face as far into her neck as it could go, wanted to taste her skin, wanted to be even closer to her than he already was, wanted to be _inside_ her... _Wooooaaaah, there_ , he chided himself drunkenly. _Keeps your socks on_. He spun her around again. Turned out even seeing those eyes was safer than being against her whole body.

As the song ended, they stumbled off the dance floor, shaking slightly.

"Well, you can dance." Rose said awkwardly, looking everywhere but at Ryuzaki. She was uncertain of herself now, her armour had slipped, she didn't know how well she could be Fen anymore.

"Thank you. So can you." L suddenly felt a bit queasy. "I'm going to go to the toilet."

"Sure." Rose leant heavily against the wall as he loped off towards the bathrooms. _What's going on?_ She'd got with guys before, of course, or rather Fen had, to keep up appearances. But in every encounter the memory of those few years as an orphaned teenage girl, alone in the criminal underworld, had haunted her. In every hand she had felt _their_ hands, and detached herself from the feeling until she could watch the scene of herself and whoever it was unfold below her, and not feel a thing. _This is so different. I don't understand_. _I feel like I'm crumbling, I feel like a live-wire_. She leaned her head back on the wall and laughed softly. It was amazing.

 _Please review if you have a moment = ] Would love some feedback_


	9. Chapter 9: Soul Searching

L stumbled to the sink and threw up. _How repulsive. I'm never doing this again._ He righted himself dazedly and gulped down some water.

"Well well well, what have we here?" came a derisive voice from behind him.

"Hello Daniel," he mustered, and started to leave the toilets. Daniel followed behind.

"Just like I thought. Can't even take a drink. Probably don't get out much, do you," he snorted.

"No, I don't."

"Probably a virgin too, eh?"

"Daniel is rude to ask such information of me."

"Turn and face me when you're talking to me!" Daniel cried, and L turned round slowly, still feeling somewhat woozy from the vomiting experience. The tall blond man was backing him up against the beige wall of the corridor.

"What's your game, eh? I bring Fen here so that I can make that beautiful woman mine, and every move I make you're _there,_ saying something smart or stealing her off. Are you deliberately trying to get in my way?"

"Yes," L replied honestly, knowing exactly how well Daniel would take that. He saw the man's shoulders tense, his fists ball, his eyes narrow to fiery slits.

"You're not her boyfriend are you?"

"No." L tried to move back away from the man's angry red face, but the wall was in the way.

"Then what thinks you have the right to get in my way like this?"

"If you recall, Fen simply asked me to-"

"Yeah yeah yeah," Daniel cut him off, "and I bet she asked you to dance with her too, didn't she?" He sneered sarcastically. "Come off it, you're pathetic following her round like this trying to get her attention, why don't you just leave her to someone in her own league?"

L stared hard into the man's face. He couldn't remain polite to this guy anymore. He was beginning to feel destructive. How far could he push the guy? "Just out of curiosity, why is it logical that an intelligent woman like her would prefer a boring, jumped-up, overbearing narcissist like yourself?"

"You little-" Daniel seized him by the throat and pressed him against the wall. "Give me one reason that I shouldn't punch your brains out you cocky little weirdo?" _Interesting. It seems he can be pushed quite far._ Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rose coming round the corner into the corridor. This was going to be _very_ interesting.

"Well, you could do that," L said, as evenly as he could with his throat being constricted, a humorous glint in his eye, "but there's about a 90% chance you'll regret it."

"OH YEAH? You're gonna hurt me, are ya?" Daniel let go of his throat, and swung a punch at L's face. L could've easily blocked it, but he didn't, and let the broad fist collide with his cheek and nose. As expected, Rose leaped immediately over to Daniel, fuming, and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. As he turned round, Rose punched him so hard that he was knocked clean out. The large blond man toppled to the floor in a heap.

"What a fucking idiot!"

"I told him he'd regret it."

Rose turned, as dangerous as a lioness, to see Ryuzaki leaning against the wall, a mischievous light glowing in his onyx eyes, one hand trying to stem the flow of glistening blood from his nose.

"Shit! Are you okay?"

"It's nothing."

"Don't be stupid." She gave him some tissues from her handbag. "We should probably get out of here."

"That's an excellent diagnosis of the situation."

As swiftly as they could casually walk they left the bar, and quickly crossed a street out of sight of the entrance, before collapsing against some railings and heaving with laughter.

"You got yourself punched deliberately, didn't you?! Just so you could see me knock him out!?"

Rose saw Ryuzaki turn to her with fake solemnity. "Correct."

"Haha hah HAAAAA...!" The tidal waves of laughter submerged them again, and they didn't surface for a good couple of minutes.

"Hey," Rose said when she got her breath back, "dya wanna go to a park for a bit? I definitely couldn't sleep yet."

"If you like."

They dropped into an off license, so Ryuzaki could buy a packet of bourbons and some fruit pastels to re-fill his empty stomach. It wasn't difficult to find a park. A narrow tarmac path lit by amber streetlights led them through areas of grass and dotted trees, yellow black and grey in the false illumination. They soon found a bench on a higher patch of ground that afforded a fairly pleasant view of the city's lights, and sat down. Ryuzaki crouched as usual, hungrily destroying the biscuits and sweets. Both stared out ahead of them at the dark manmade landscape before them, quiet for a moment. It was a peaceful evening. Gone were the heady, intense feelings of their drunkenness earlier. Both were now filled with a quieter, cooler, more serene feeling. It wasn't precisely happy or sad, but neither was it neutral. It was a vast feeling, both full and empty, like the starry night sky above them.

Rose felt too natural to be Fen. She let down Fen's bun into Rose's drooping chestnut curls and sat cross legged on the bench, jacket over her exposed legs, and sighed with relief. She knew she shouldn't break character in front of someone, but it felt too late for that. It felt like Ryuzaki already knew who she was. What _did_ he make of her? Did he only see Fen, or was he astute enough to notice the Rose underneath? _I have to know._

"When you look at me, what do you see?" Rose watched him turn to her in surprise at her unexpected question, eyebrows raised.

"Be honest. Be brutally honest. I really want to know. You're good at reading clues in puzzles, you're good at reading my movements in a fight, I want to know if you're good at reading _me._ "

"Are you sure?" He asked dubiously, and a small wry smile pulled at his lips, "I might say something horribly offensive, you know."

"That's fine, I can handle it." Fen's determined jaw told L that she meant it.

"Okay. But I don't know you that well, so I might be very wrong." He wouldn't be wrong. But he had to say it.

Rose nodded to say that was fine, and watched Ryuzaki as his thumb came up to his mouth and played with his lip again. His deep black eyes gazed at her for a moment, his feet wiggling over each other, and Rose tried to hold his gaze, whilst feeling like her very soul was naked before him.

"I see... One of the strongest, most independent women I've ever met. I see it in the way you hold your mouth, the way you hold you head and neck. It makes me think that you've been looking after yourself for several years now, even though you can't be older than twenty three. I see a woman whose dedication to physical health is possibly a little _over-_ zealous. I see a tenseness in your shoulders and around your eyebrows that speaks of constant striving for better, a constant drive for perfection that shapes everything you do. And with it, comes the fear of failure. Possibly also, the guilt of failure in the past. Yes, there's definitely some guilt in your eyes. But it's by no means the strongest communication there. They're filled with defiance. I see hatred and apathy in there, as if most of the world bores and disgusts you. That will be partly due to your impressive intelligence, but it's got to be more than that. Your eyes speak too of a deep hurt, an old pain that makes you tender inside. I wonder if it's that that fuels your anger. There's also much humour about you, and some gentleness too, in the flash of your smile, and the creases around your eyes. Your life hasn't beaten the joy out of you. And yet there's a loneliness in your fierce independence. And there's whole depths of you that I can't see, and I don't think anyone can, I think you keep yourself very private. It's really quite bewitching," he added.

Ryuzaki stopped, looking concerned. Rose knew why – it was because she was tense and shaking, if she hadn't been a highly controlled person, she might have been crying. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, it's fine, really," she reassured him, feeling as fragile as a butterfly's wing in a storm. She turned from him, and stared out over the dark and twinkling city, clutching her hands together, trying to control her breathing. "I just didn't expect you to be quite that... well... accurate."

L didn't respond to her. He knew he shouldn't have analysed her properly, it would only make her more curious about him, and Fen wanting to know more about him could lead to his fake identity becoming apparent. But he didn't _want_ to be fake. He didn't _want_ to have to avoid trusting this person, just like every other he'd met before her. He didn't trust her of course, but he wanted to know her, and wanted her to know him, just a little. He swore at himself inside his mind, conflicted, and ate some fruit pastilles to cover up his thoughts.

After some quiet moments passed, Rose regained her composure, her breathing steadying.

"May I ask you the same question?" L asked Fen, when he thought she was ready.

Rose looked at him. Dark locks were falling into serious eyes. He meant it. _Should I pretend to not see very much? No, I can't bear to read him badly and see his disappointment in me. Fuck it_.

"I see... one of the most complex and unusual people I've ever met," she said, mirroring his opening sentence. "I see someone who is a conflict of boy and man. In your crouching posture I see a man who is crushed by bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders, crushed by responsibilities that no one should ever have to bear. In the very same posture I see a boy who must be as close to the foetal position as possible to try and recapture a youth that they never had. I see in your downturned mouth a darkness, a darkness of one who's seen too much. I see in your unconscious movements someone that doesn't realise how graceful they are, that never expects anyone to be looking, or to care. I see in the determination of your jaw a man that hates to fail as much as I do. Sometimes, when you smile and wiggle your toes, you glow with total purity - conflicted with the devilishness and world-weary sarcasm of your other smiles. I see someone that's been detached from the world and from others so much that they don't even remember what it's like to be connected, I see someone who is so alone that the word 'alone' has ceased to bear any meaning for them. And in those eyes... I see someone that is too intelligent for their own good. I see that your keep your much of your real self private from the world, just like I do, but probably because you see others so little, you're not as perfect and practised as hiding yourself as you think. And I see a wildness just waiting to escape, but not knowing how."

L looked away and hugged his knees tighter as Fen finished. "That was... reasonably close." He admitted. _I wish I could tell you that it was absolutely perfect. I can't give that much away_. He clenched his jaw to stop himself from shouting out, " _That's me, that's me, I'm L! I'm the detective that can never have a friend! I'm the detective that nobody would want to be friends with, because I'd accidentally get them killed, or I'd push them away with my weirdness! I'm L, and I've always put my work over people, because that's what I've been trained to do!_ " Instead, he said nothing, and tried to relax the tension in his body.

Rose watched him, satisfied that she'd got it right. He wouldn't have looked so perturbed otherwise. But she felt full of sorrow, too. _We can never connect. I can't because he'll find out that I work for criminals and hate me, he can't because he doesn't know how._ They both sat in silence for a while, struggling with their thoughts.

"Ryuzaki, what's your second name? I realised I still don't know."

"Idukame," L thought of quickly. _Damn, I should've prepared for that question. Should've found a fake identity to use._

"That's pretty. Where did you learn to dance?"

"My grandfather. He thought I should know how to do it properly." Well, it was true that Wammy, the closest person he had to family had taught him, but he could hardly tell her that he'd needed to learn in order to understand the mindset of serial-killing dancer in a case a couple of years ago.

"Had you ever been out dancing before?"

"No," he replied, "I really wasn't sure of the point." _Need to deflect these questions_. "Do you?"

"Yeah a fair few times. I love dancing, but I dislike a lot of people. It's a tricky one."

L chuckled. "You could always dance on your own."

"Oh, I do," Rose answered honestly, "though not as much as I train martial arts."

They chatted for a while longer about little things that didn't matter, before deciding it was quite cold and late and they should probably return to the hotel. It had been weird but strangely comforting to Rose, to small-talk with Ryuzaki.

In the third floor corridor they said goodbye. Rose could see that the veil – that had been conspicuously absent for the last hour or so – had descended over his face again. Once more, Ryuzaki was inscrutable. Rose had put Fen's expressions back on her face, but she couldn't muster quite as good as mask as him at that moment.

"Good night Fen, thank you for the entertaining evening." He said politely in monotone, as if reciting from a book.

"Good night, Ryuzaki. Thank you for helping me avoid Daniel." _And thank you for giving me the first physical human contact I've enjoyed since being a child_ , she wanted to add, but refrained. He had probably not known what he was doing to her, he was too innocent, it was probably nothing more than a first-drunken-experience to him.

 _Was that all it was to her?_ L wondered, _just a ploy?_ "You're welcome" he replied stiffly, and turned to leave, but found that Fen had caught his arm.

"Ryuzaki, will we see each other again?" Rose saw that it took some effort for him to retain his blank veil at this question.

"I don't know. I can't make any promises."

"Me neither," she said, trying to hide her pain at the fact.

"Well, goodbye then."

"Bye."

Rose stumbled up the next flight of stairs and into her en suite. Kicking off her shoes, she grabbed a large glass of water and took it out onto the little Parisian balcony, and sat on the chair there. She sighed at the sky. _How inconvenient to actually like another human being._ After a moment, she heard the click of a door beneath her, and two pairs of footsteps emerge onto the balcony one floor below. That was surprising, it was 5am. She leant discreetly over the balcony edge, and saw the top of Ryuzaki's messy hair. Even more surprisingly, he was with an old man. _He's not staying here alone?_ Rose questioned. _That's weird. Maybe it's his grandfather? But then if he's seriously ill shouldn't he be in hospital or a care home or something?_

"What's happened to your face?" She heard the old man ask Ryuzaki with concern. "Didn't run into trouble, did you?"

"Not in the way you're thinking," came Ryuzaki's faint, droning, voice, dripping with irony. Rose strained her ears to hear.

"Oh?"

"I got in a fight over a girl."

There was a pause, before the old man erupted into a wheezy chuckle. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Was it the girl who sent you the puzzle?"

"Correct. Wammy's deductive powers are almost as strong as mine tonight," Ryuzaki teased.

"You will be careful, though? You know the dangers."

Rose heard Ryuzaki sigh. _What the hell is going on here? Is the old man some kind of uber-controlling grandfather that's taught him never to trust people?_

"I know, Wammy. I've already gone too far. It's just, she's the first person I've ever wanted to be friends with."

Rose felt herself blush with pleasure.

"Okay. To be honest, I'm happy for you." Now the old man was sighing wistfully. "I feel very guilty you know, for taking your childhood away. Without a doubt, nobody else at the orphanage could have done it so well, it had to be you. But I regret what you've had to sacrifice."

"Don't be silly Wammy, I chose this life for myself as much as you did for me. Besides, I was hardly more sociable before you found me."

The old man chuckled. "That's true enough."

Rose's heart was beating hard, her mind buzzing with confusion. As Ryuzaki and the old man went back inside, she sat back down on the chair, brow furrowed, scratching her hair, totally nonplussed. _Danger? Orphanage? Sacrifice? FOUND me?_ What the hell did any of this mean?

 _Hey if you read this some feedback would be awwweeesommeeeeee = ]_


	10. Chapter 10: Jimmy, Memory, Ryuzaki is L?

_Fanfiction's being an idiot and won't let me look at my reviews, so if you're one of the people that reviewed thank you for your comments, hopefully I'll be able to look at them soon! Another long chapter this time, hope you enjoy!_

The alcohol remaining in L's system made him fall asleep for longer than his usual single sleep cycle. He woke up after three cycles, four and a half hours, and leapt up from the bed still fully clothed, cursing at the wasted time. Going to the bathroom, he realised another reason that he'd never drunk before – the "hangover". It wasn't too bad, but he had a mild headache, and his whole brain felt like a pile of useless sludge. _Coffee. And tiramisu. That's what I need,_ he decided, munching some strawberries to keep himself going. Back in the bedroom, a knock on the door announced Wammy's arrival.

"Come in."

"The police informant has texted, said he'll meet you this morning."

L nodded, pleased but unsurprised. "Set up an interview room in the place we've done so before, with the microphones and cameras, and meet him there."

"Of course."

A couple of hours later, a message from Wammy arrived to say that all was prepared. L peered at the screen that showed the interview room. Wammy as Watari sat on one side of a table with a laptop showing L's letter, opposite a thin, mousey-haired man of middle-age, with skin that spoke of too many cigarettes. He looked twitchy and defensive, a little fearful, but also a little cocky. L smiled a small smile of satisfaction. Jimmy Randall. Of all the people he'd considered to be the informant, Jimmy had been L's prime suspect.

"Good morning, Jimmy Randall. Please allow me to express my immense gratitude to you for coming forward. It saved me a lot of time and bother. You did the right thing coming forward – I already strongly suspected the informant was you, so you have avoided a far more uncomfortable future this way."

Jimmy had jumped a little when L's voice first sounded. "Yeah, I thought that might be the case. Didn't wanna take my chances. I really don't like not being able to see you though, is it really necessary to do it like this?"

"Please, Jimmy, look at it from my perspective. You allowed someone to gain access to the details of me held by the police, do you really think I would be wise to reveal more of my identity to you?"

"No, s'pose not."

"Indeed. Then please, proceed to inform me about everything you know. I am _very_ good at detecting lies, Jimmy. If I have the slightest suspicion you are lying, you will not leave this room."

Jimmy jumped a little. "Ain't that a bit unethical?"

"Consider the alternative. In the alternative scenario, if I suspect you are lying, I inform your fellow policemen of your involvement, with adequate evidence, and they throw you in prison."

The mousey-haired man gulped. "And you really mean the deal? They won't be able to get at me once I'm gone?"

"I would not lie to a man in your current position Jimmy, that would be the worst sort of abuse of power. I have a strong commitment to justice, and that involves keeping my word."

Jimmy nodded. "Okay then." He took a couple of breaths. "It's a girl."

L felt his heartbeat quicken. _Maybe it's that girl that Wedy was talking about after all._ "Go on."

"She calls herself Lily, though I'm sure it's not her real name. Lily's come to me a few times before, sometimes to put things in computers there to allow her to access files. Always has a LOT of money to reward me, though, not as much as you're offering."

"What does she look like?"

"Brown hair, always in plaits. Wears summer dresses. She always wears shades, too," he said apologetically, "so I don't know about her eyes. Lily's pretty young. Hot too," he added, and an unpleasant leer crossed his face. "She's got soft pink lips, and this strong, tanned body, she clearly keeps good care of herself. God, I've tried to convince her to let me taste a bit of that body, but she'd never let me near, of course," he said wistfully.

 _Disgusting_ , L thought, but pushed away his value-judgment, and tried to operate neutrally. "What can you tell me of her character?"

"Reserved. To the point. A biting sense of humour if I rubbed her up the wrong way, which I did pretty much every meeting. Got the feeling she didn't like cigarettes."

"And who did she work for?"

"I dunno. I don't think she was tied to one particular group. More, 'freelance' shall we say? Kind of you, L," Jimmy said astutely, staring into the camera. "You make good rivals."

 _He might be disgustingly shallow, but he's not stupid._ "And what information about me did you give to this 'Lily'?"

"Your super-meagre police file. Don't worry, they don't have a clue about you, so neither will she."

"Was that everything?"

"No... there's a bug installed in your meeting room too, so she could keep on top of your meetings."

"Aah. Do you have any knowledge of where she might live?"

"No idea. We always met at the same cafe, The Little Teapot. I'd tell you her number so you could try and track her phone, but I tried to ring her – she's already destroyed it." There was a pause.

"Do you have more information, any more at all, that could be of relevance?"

Jimmy's face showed that he was thinking about it seriously. "No, I don't think so."

L paused and thought for a moment. "Okay. My observations suggest that you are not lying, but until I have verified CCTV footage of the cafe I think it best to keep you here. Watari will provide you with refreshments if you require them."

Jimmy nodded. "Sounds fair."

After several hours poring over CCTV footage, L could confirm that Jimmy wasn't lying. The CCTV coverage of the cafe front was annoyingly bad quality. The picture was low resolution and blurry, taken from many metres down the opposite side of the street. But on questioning Jimmy on the days of his meetings with Lily, his dates cohered with a Jimmy-like figure convening with a blurry female figure in shades at a little table outside The Little Teapot. Why was surveillance technology still so low-tech in this day and age? _How irritating to not get a proper look at her._ Jimmy was put on a plane to Thailand with a new identity. The police would hate it, but, L thought he had been right that Jimmy would only talk for selfish reasons. Just getting a smaller jail sentence wouldn't have been an incentive enough for him to spill the beans, he'd have put up and shut up if cornered legally.

L retreated onto the hotel bed with a plateful of grapes, and wrapped himself in the duvet, still crouching. He wasn't cold, he just felt like something was missing around him. It was probably the hangover, didn't people feel a little odd on hangovers?

"Rose, I am certain now that it is you," he mused, brow furrowed, to the blank white ceiling. "You have the right motivation, your loyalty to your criminal parents and thus to The Group, you had the right training with that hacker, you're the right age... But where are you? WHO are you?"

He sighed. He'd gone from having no women in his life (but Wedy), to two women he didn't understand. Fen, someone he genuinely wanted to be close to, but one he would have to stay away from. The other - Lily/Rose - his current nemesis whose crimes supporting the underworld were despicable... but the one that he had to invest his energy on. For one of the first times, he minded that his whole life must be his work.

 _Rose was in total comfort in her mother's arms, sucking on her thumb. Her eyes were closed, as she bathed in the sensation of her mother's warm skin, and her comforting scent._

" _Rosy are you asleep?" The voice of her mother said from somewhere near above her. Rose wasn't, but she was so close to sleep that she couldn't muster up the energy to open her eyes or say something._

" _That's it, rest my love." A gentle hand started to stroke her hair. "I love you, Rosy. My girl that doesn't exist. My precious secret. Secret genius! Our trump card. You're going to be the best weapon against them that we've ever had. Fuck the authorities. They can't ever tell us what to do! You're going to help us be richer than ever before! Aww, I love you so much. For as long as I can, I'll never let anyone hurt you. And I'll make sure I train you to be incapable of being hurt when I'm gone. My undercover warrior!"_

 _Rose didn't really understand what her mother was saying, and opened her eyes to stare at her. But when she looked up into her mother's face it was blurry, as if it were a memory that she couldn't quite recall properly. As she stared up in confusion her mother's face morphed slowly into her father's handsome, devilish one, laughing with wild hopelessness. He raised his fingers in the shape of gun to Rose's forehead._

" _Bang!"_

Rose startled awake quickly. _Shit_. She'd fallen asleep on the train. Not being able to sleep after overhearing that conversation between Ryuzaki and the old man called Wammy, she'd gathered her things to get the first train back to Bristol. And then she'd fallen asleep on the train of all places, almost missed her stop. Rose grabbed her bags and hurried off onto the platform at Temple Meads, trying to blink the dream out of her eyes. _Was some of that a real memory, or did I make it all up? I don't even know anymore._

The little Bristol circular train took her meanderingly around an arc of the city before arriving in the sleep district of Redland. As she plodded home, she noticed that in the two weeks she'd been away the leaves had just begun to turn autumnal colours of red, gold, yellow and brown. Once back in her flat, she put the kettle on and collapsed on the sofa. Now was the time to lie low for a while until she could be sure that Jimmy hadn't told L enough for him to be able to link it to her. She was sure that he couldn't have, 'Lily' had never revealed much to the guy. But, she thought, it was possible that they wouldn't know about or find the bug in the police station until they'd had at least one more meeting with L, and she could use that to gage the seriousness of her predicament.

Meanwhile, there was something else playing on her mind that could keep her occupied. Rose changed out of 'Fen' clothes into a comfortable vest top and green leggings, making a strong black coffee when the kettle finally came to a bubbling climax. Settling back onto the sofa, she completed the puzzle and passwords on her laptop. This morning, she was going to find out everything she could about Ryuzaki. Was it rude to look up an acquaintance's life? _Probably_ , Rose admitted to herself, _but after hearing those things this morning I just can't leave it alone. I don't want enigmas, I want answers!_

It seemed like Jimmy hadn't gone forward just yet, because all her channels to the police and governmental databases were still open. _Good_. Sipping the coffee, Rose typed in 'Ryuzaki Idukame'.

'No results found'.

Had she spelt it wrong? Frowning, Rose tried several other combinations of letters that might match the sound.

'No results found'.

Perhaps he wasn't a British citizen. It would make sense of the name, but the perfect English accent however... It didn't seem at all likely to her. Surely no one that hadn't lived here for several years at least could speak like that? Rose moved onto Facebook, and tried the name there. It came up with five Ryuzaki Idukame's, all Japanese, but upon peering at their profile pictures, none looked the slightest like her Ryuzaki. _Did I just call him 'mine'?_ she wondered, askance. _Still, the likelihood of the Ryuzaki I know having Facebook is less than slim._

So, Rose turned to a different line of enquiry. In an appropriately encoded search engine, she looked up 'Wammy' and 'orphanage'. To her surprise, there was results. There was even a dedicated website called 'Wammy's Orphanages'. Clicking on the link revealed a simple, one-page site.

'Quillsh Wammy is an avid inventor, sociologist and philanthropist. Over the years he has founded several orphanages throughout Britain, written many critically received papers, lectured at universities, and invented several scientific implements, especially in the realm of computer technology. For his academic and entrepreneurial achievements, please follow the link below. Wammy's orphanages are managed by a trust fund, with both known and anonymous donors. Whilst most are unremarkable, Wammy's most notable institution in Winchester - known as 'Wammy's House' – specialises in housing and educated highly gifted orphaned children. Since it is a relatively recent sociological project, Wammy has not yet published the results of his educational experiment. However, many leading academics have tipped it as a success. If you have any queries about Wammy's orphanages, or think you know a child that belongs there, please call the telephone number at the top of the page.'

 _I sure can think of someone that belongs there_! Rose thought. So, it looked like Ryuzaki had been a genius orphan in a sociological experiment then? And that old man was his guardian/head teacher/parent figure/studier? _It figures_. _No wonder he's so strange, growing up in an environment like that._ Rose pondered the situation. Ryuzaki had never said he _wasn't_ from an orphanage, to be fair. Perhaps he would if she'd asked. But what of his grandfather? That story had to be a lie. If he was close to his grandfather, then he'd have never been given to an orphanage. And if his 'grandfather' was a cover up for Wammy... Rose frowned into her empty coffee mug. This made so little sense. _Why would he lie?_ _What has he got to hide? Why would someone be sneaking round in different hotels in London?_

Rose froze. Sneaking around in hotels in London was exactly what SHE had been doing. And what had she been hiding? _That I'm a genius detective of the underworld._ So, what did that mean HE could have been doing? He wasn't working for criminals – Rose knew every underworld wannabe that tried to call themselves a detective or spy like her. Which meant Ryuzaki could be a genius detective of the normal world. Which meant Ryuzaki could be... L?

Rose put the coffee mug down and shook her head disbelievingly. "It can't be that!" she said out loud, almost surprising herself with the loudness of her voice. It was probably only about a 10% chance that it was him, but still that was a higher percentage than for anyone else in the world that Rose knew of.

She kept shaking her head, as if shaking it could decrease the idea's plausibility. The idea refused to go away. Ryuzaki, Watari... the Japanese-style names ever cohered. And If Ryuzaki WAS L, it was sensible of him to never reveal himself physically to someone, what chief of police would take him seriously through those weird habits? Somehow, it all made a horrible kind of sense, a horrible irony, a cruel joke that the world was playing on her. IF Ryuzaki was L – and Rose was a long way from sure, still, but IF he was – it was the worst kind of joke. That the very person she was working to eradicate was the only person she could consider calling a _friend._

Leaping up, Rose started pacing around the room. What was she to do? She was in a bind. First of all, there was a chance that Jimmy had revealed enough about her for L to find her. Secondly, there was a chance that she was trying to kill Ryuzaki, and if there was anyone she didn't want killed, it was him. Thirdly, if Ryuzaki was L and L was already on the way to finding her, then Ryuzaki would realise who she was and never want to see her again. _Never want to see me again, who am kidding? Worse than that, he'd throw me in prison without a second thought. L is justice. If Ryuzaki is L, he won't let a minor friendship get in the way of justice. Plus he might be able to link his knowledge of me to Jimmy's description. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. What am I to do?_

She hadn't felt fear like this in years. Rose attempted to calm the constriction in her stomach and shoulders and jaw, and slow her heart rate, with some mindfulness techniques. It was no use. _I'll just have to train instead, till I can hear the last police meeting with L that I'll be privy to_. Putting on some high-energy music, she did just that, until the frenetic exercise sweated some of the panic out of her.

Late that afternoon, after she'd remembered last-minute to send off some puzzles to the magazines, her computer dinged to inform her that the bug was picking things up. Rose waited impatiently for the policemen to stop shuffling their papers and talking about the wives.

"Good afternoon gentlemen and gentlewomen," came the distorted voice. "I have just had a very interesting interview with one of your members, the informant." Shocked whispers abounded. "I've already sent him off with his new identity however, so don't get too excited about punishing him. Don't worry, I'm sure fate will punish him in its own way."

"Now come on L, do you really think this is acceptable? It's downright illegal, we can't let you do this!"

"I'm sorry, I'm simply a pragmatist." Drawled the voice. "But at least I'm a moral one. Nobody has been hurt this way."

There were angry mutters around the room. Come to think of it, the distorted voice _DID_ speak a bit like Ryuzaki. L had exactly the same blend of politeness and complete lack of tact.

"The point is, that the man formerly known as Jimmy Randall has given us some interesting information on our lead, codename 'Lily'. Apparently she's been hacking you for quite some years now. Tut tut. If I were you, I'd let me re-do your cyber-security as a matter of some urgency."

Was that humour in his voice? Was L _smirking_ at the incompetence of the police? _He sure knows how to make friends,_ Rose thought. _Just like Ryuzaki deliberately getting himself punched,_ was the thought that reluctantly followed.

"So, we have our profile. A young, brown-haired, attractive, highly intelligent woman, that may or may not live in London, but can access London quite easily I'd imagine. She's self-employed, but I suspect she has strong links to The Group."

Rose was surprised that Jimmy had told L this much but not about the bug. Surely L would have had it removed if he knew? But she'd had the thought a moment too soon.

"Lastly," said the distorted L, "I would like to address a few words direct to codename Lily herself."

There were gasps amongst the policemen, and Rose's hands clenched with surprise. "What dya mean by that?" Came the cry of an outraged officer.

"I mean that in this very room is a bug set by Jimmy linked directly to codename Lily. Now, Lily." L paused. "I kept the bug in the room for the meeting so I could show you how much closer we are. I think that you must be quite a confident perfectionist, and I'm hoping this information has shaken you somewhat. I'd like to add, that from sources I cannot reveal, I think I have gleaned a far more intimate picture of your REAL identity than you expect. That does not mean I will immediately find you, but trust me. I shall find you soon enough. Now without your fingers in the police's pies, you're on a back foot and you're clever enough to know it. Lily, the people you protect do evil things, and that makes your actions evil too. Justice will prevail. Goodbye, for now."

The distorted voice ended, and Rose stared blankly at the screen. _Is what I do evil?_ The thought had never really occurred to her. She could hear the irate police force scrabbling around the room trying to find the microphone. They'd find it before long. _What does he know of my REAL identity? Does he mean Fen or Rose, or is he bluffing?_ L was right about one thing though, she WAS on a back foot, and she'd need all of her wits to get into control again. _I must come up with a plan, and fast._

Thanks for reading = ] Got any feedback? (Hopefully I'll actually be able to read them, stupid website! Of course, if ya fancied messaging me instead that would be gratefully received) peace x


	11. Chapter 11: L Learns Rose's Past

"How's things going? Need me to do anything?" Wammy asked L. It was three days after their last meeting with the UK police, and they'd gone back to Wammy's House for a little while to gather their wits. Moving hotel all the time got tiring, especially for Wammy, who wasn't as young as he'd used to be.

"Not exactly. Though I'd be quite interested in sharing my current research with you."

"Certainly." Wammy took as seat next to his crouching companion. L's intense eyes flicked between Wammy and the computer screen. He'd be holed up in his apartment for two solid days researching his suspect, only breaking to go to the toilet or use the shower.

"There's not loads to go on this Rose character, but there's bits and pieces here and there. I'm curious to see if you think it is as likely to be her as I do."

"Go on."

"From the story Wedy told me, I've worked out who her parents were. Jane and Damian Campbell. They were big dogs in The Group. No registered children, so Rose was had in secret." L flicked through a couple of computer files. "Aaah, here it is, the file on their death. Apparently they had lain a false trail to another warehouse where they _weren't_ __supervising some illegal transactions, but the police trying to find them noticed and changed tack at the last moment. Now, listen to this witness statement from one of the policemen:

' _We entered the room suddenly to take them by surprise, guns raised. Two men ran out of a backdoor we hadn't known about. The two left, a man and a woman grabbed each other's hands tightly. "It's over darling," the man said quietly to her, let go of her hand, and pulled a gun out. The woman looked shocked. We demanded that he drop the gun. He refused, and as he raised it to point it at the woman's chest. She turned around and shouted "Rosy!" Then the man shot her. He turned the gun sideways for a moment, for apparently no reason, then pulled a smile and shot himself in the head."_

"And look," L continued, "look at the photos of the scene."

Wammy peered at the old film-images uploaded to the computer. There were the two dead figures lying on the floor at diagonals from each other. There was blood and brains scattered up the wall. If he'd have been a man with a more sensitive constitution, it would have been a horrifying sight.

"Do you see the cupboard?" L asked him keenly.

"Well, yes, but there doesn't seem to be anything remarkable it."

"Hmm for sure, and that's clearly what the stupid police thought because they never looked inside it. So, the woman turns round _towards the cupboard_ , shouts 'Rosy', and then dies. The man turns _towards the cupboard_ , gun raised as if to shoot, but doesn't see what he's looking for, so just shoots himself. Don't you think," L said excitedly, well as excitedly as his low, monotone voice could ever sound, "that it's highly likely that the child Rose was hiding in that cupboard?"

Wammy stared at the photo. "I can see the logic in that, yes. But why's that important?"

"Obviously, because witnessing a scene like that would be enough for most people to have it against the police – the police's arrival caused her father to try and kill them all. A small child isn't going to blame her selfish, idiotic father is she, she's going to blame the next nearest cause. Which _means_ , Rose has all the right motivation to be the criminal detective we're looking for. Rather like me - it's a beautiful symmetry."

"Yes, I see. It does make sense." Wammy didn't quite know how to react to L's strange sudden fervour, and his casual allusion to his parent's death. He _never_ spoke of that.

"And now, with your confirmation that this idea bears some sense, I have a different answer to your original question," L said, scooping kiwi flesh into his mouth with great vigour.

"What question was that?"

"Whether there's anything I need you to do. The answer is now yes: I need you to go to prison."

"What for?"

A small smile appeared on L's face. "We need to talk to a certain computer hacker that was imprisoned six years ago."

Wammy as Watari arrived at Wandsworth Prison, South London, two hours later. The guards, who had been pre-warned of his arrival, led him to a private discussion room where he could talk to the prisoner. Wammy took a seat, and set up L's communication laptop. Shortly afterwards the guards brought in a man of about his own age, who took the seat opposite him.

He was a short man, with pale skin smooth for his years, and small rectangular glasses. Small bluish eyes looked out from behind them and blinked almost timidly.

"Isaac Goldberg. Do you know why you're here?" L's distorted voice asked.

"No."

"You're not in any trouble, don't worry, you don't need to look so nervous. We just need your help in a matter."

"H-help?" Isaac stammered, looking from the computer screen to Wammy and back again.

"That's right. If you're willing to cooperate, we need to know everything you know about a girl called Rose, born to Jane and Damian Campbell. You know her don't you?" L didn't really need to ask. The blatant flow of recognition, surprise, pleasure and fear over the man's face was enough.

"Y-yes, I do. Well, I - I used to, obviously."

"You cared for her for some years, am I correct?"

"That's right." Isaac nodded, still not sure whether to be looking at the gothic letter 'L' on the screen, or the figure in the trench coat and low hat beside it.

"I would be very grateful if you told us everything you can remember about Rose."

Isaac levelled his eyes at the computer screen, and narrowed them a little. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say. All I can say is that we need to find her, and we need as much information on the girl as possible."

L saw the quavering man's weak jaw set firmly, lips pressed together. "Look, I don't think I want to tell you anything. I don't kn-know who you are. You're probably trying to lock her up, or h-h-hurt her or ruin her life in some way like that. Well I won't let it happen." The little blue eyes glared at the screen, before glaring at Wammy.

"You clearly have some considerable feelings for the girl," L observed, trying to tread carefully.

"Y-y-yes, I do! She was the closest to a d-daughter I ever had."

"I understand, and that means you wouldn't like to say anything to compromise her happiness. But please understand, Isaac, that's she's already heavily involved in a life of crime. Her happiness is _already_ compromised. If you told us what you know about Rose, we could try to help her." This was all guesses and white lies on L's part, but he wasn't going to let Wammy leave that room until he had some answers.

Isaac sighed, and looked around the blank room. He didn't know what to do. He wound his hands together to try and stop their permanent shake. "If I t-t-tell you what I know, will you promise to try and protect her?"

"I can't make any promises, but I can try." L waited patiently, hoping this would be enough. It was.

"Okay. I'll tell you what I know. But for her sake, y-y-you understand?"

"I understand perfectly."

There was a pregnant pause, whilst Isaac collected his thoughts.

"I worked for The Group for y-years. I didn't much want to by the end, but you know, o-once you work for people like that there's no easy way out." He chuckled with a pained look in his eyes. "I knew her parents before her. They were a crazy couple. They looked after all the 'underground' operations, whilst, w-whilst the other leaders took care of the 'above ground' operations so to speak. Damian was one for the ladies, but he'd always g-g-go back to Jane. She was a wild thing, with these big bright golden eyes. They both had such a temper on them! No one wanted to be around when they were h-having a domestic, and certainly no one ever wanted to g-g-get on the wrong side of them. Both handy with a gun, but clever enough to not need to use them very often. They loved drama. When they fought, they'd th-throw chairs at each other, and scream that they'd burn the other in hell, ss-s-stuff like that. Then do the most ridiculous passionate displays of making up.

So one day, Jane has this kid. Damian's adamant it's not his for a few months, but soon Rosy starts to look like him. More than that though, at 6 months she can talk, before she can e-even w-walk. By the time she can walk at 9 months, she can speak totally fluently. Damian's far k-keener to say Rosy's his child now!

By the time Rosy's 4, she can play chess, s-solve equations, and write clever things. She's th-the absolute apple of their eye. Called her their secret genius, wonder-girl, stuff like that. S-so all was rosy as it were – pardon the p-pun – till when she's about six, her father D-Damian hits on an idea. Why shouldn't they teach Rosy how to create security-systems? Why shouldn't they ask her on the most fool-proof ways of h-hiding the gear? She w-was genius, she'd do it better than anyone else. Jane was reluctant a-at first, but when they tried it out, it was t-too successful for her mothering instincts to override. By the time Rosy was s-seven, she wasn't a child anymore, she was a weapon."

Isaac paused for breath, his face weary and sad. L barely breathed himself he was listening so intently. "Please, take your time. There's no rush."

"A-and that's how things went for a few years. She got really good, s-she pretty much single-handedly made The Group w-what it is today, and probably doesn't even realise it. But one day one of her plans to lead off the police went wrong for some r-r-reason, and Damian killed Jane and himself. Rosy went missing then. I d-didn't see her for a couple of years. How old was she? I d-d-don't know, maybe eleven, twelve, something like that.

When I next saw her... it was s-somewhere no k-kid of that age sh-should, should ever be. God knows how, but after her folks died she ended u-up with some bad men. I don't know how often or how much, b-but, b-but things happened to that girl that shouldn't even happen. I hope they rot for eternity" Isaac spat, his voice cracked, and he looked away from the L on the screen to wipe the moisture from his eyes. "I took her in. She'd been such an intense girl, full of life like her mum, but by t-that point she was a zombie. She'd barely talk. She wouldn't eat for a-a-ages. Even by the end, she hated food, though she'd force it down.

It was two years until she started to smile a-again. I'd started teaching her what I k-knew about c-c-coding and hacking, and she took to it like a duck to water. Normally we'd just sit at computers together, or maybe go for walks. I always wanted to give a hug, give her some comfort like a p-proper father, but she couldn't stand to be touched for obvious reasons. Not till our very l-last year together, anyway. I'll never f-forget when we realised I was about to get arrested, how she came and looked me d-d-deeply in the eyes, said how g-grateful she was, and gave me the biggest hug in the world.

Do you see, L? Or whoever you are? I've t-told you all this coz I love that girl, and I thought that i-i-if I told you her story then maybe in w-w-whatever way you're t-trying to catch her, you'll be kind to her. Coz God knows she d-d-deserves it more than most." Isaacs eyes implored the camera.

L hugged his knees. "Yes, Isaac, I see. The authenticity of your love for this girl couldn't possibly be denied." He said softly. "Thank you for your information. There's just one last thing. Where do you think she would have gone after you died? What would she have done?"

Isaac thought for a moment. "She'd have got a fake identity, a good o-one at that. She'd have continued working for The G-Group, it's all she knows. She likes the country, but she'd without a doubt be living in a city, a Southern one probably. And she'll p-probably be alone. I'm sorry, I-I really couldn't imagine any d-d-details."

"That's fine. You've given me lots to think about. Thank you, Isaac. That'll be all Watari."

When Wammy got back to the orphanage and entered L's private living room, he found him crouched on the floor in front of the fireplace, gazing into the flames. He didn't turn round as Wammy approached, so Wammy made two cups of tea, and returned to hand one to L. L took it, but put it straight down onto the richly carpeted floor, before turning to Wammy with huge, pooling obsidian eyes. Wammy sat in the armchair next to the crouching young man sipped his tea, waiting for L to speak.

"I just keep thinking..." he said softly and slowly, but with great care and emphasis, "that, well something like that could've happened to me. That could've been _me._ If you hadn't found me." Then, tentatively, like a cautious dog approaching a new visitor, L laid his raven-haired head on Wammy's knee. After about thirty seconds, he raised it again, with an odd expression added to his sad eyes.

"But I also keep thinking," he continued, "that in another way, me and Rose still aren't that different. We're both weapons," he said simply, staring at Wammy. He wasn't reproaching him, he was just stating the facts. "We're the ace in the hole. The trump cards."

Wammy felt a lump in his throat, and leant forward to place his hand on L's cheek, who looked more like a child than he had done for years. "L, don't ever forget that if you want to leave, if you want to have a normal life, then I won't stop you."

The wide eyes held his gaze. "Thank you. But you know it's too late for that. This is who I am now." He stated. "And I don't mind. Really. My work is everything to me. It's just an interesting parallel, don't you think?" He moved away from the old man's hand, and began contemplating the fire again.

Wammy leant back in the armchair and sighed. He would never understand L.

 _What dya think? Out of character or okay? Thanks for reading = ]_


	12. Chapter 12: Picnic In the Hills

_Hope you enjoy! This story is my release from the stress of my 3_ _rd_ _year university exams – writing helps with that, but is certainly distracting me too much haha._

The next morning whilst informing the police spy that had managed to get a job at GoodPharma what to look out for, L heard a knock on his living room door.

"Come in." It was Wammy, of course. No one else dared try and enter.

"I was just reading the paper over breakfast, and spotted this at the back. I couldn't tell for certain, but I think it might be to do with you."

L took the paper and dangled it between his fingers in front of his face. ' _Brain-bashing for the terrifically talented #2'_ , read the title on the back page.

"Thank you Wammy, it looks like Fen has made me another puzzle." He spoke drily, but he was pleased. L took a pencil, swapped to crouching on an armchair by the cold fireplace and began to decipher it. It was a simpler structure than the last, only two sections, but the patterns were much harder to find. It was a full two hours of thumb-biting, toe-scrunching, cake-eating, and frantic scribbling before he'd solved it.

 _1325._ And, _51.255107 - -2.7291906 ._

The last digits looked like map coordinates. _Is the four-digit number a time?_ He leapt back to his computer station and searched the coordinates. It revealed a nondescript side of a small hill in The Mendips. _A place and a time. What's Fen trying to say? Does she want me to go there?_ He left his wing of the orphanage for the first time in four days to find Wammy.

L padded silently down the carpeted floor of the oak-panelled corridor, down the stairs and into the kitchen. He hoped he didn't meet any children, he wasn't prepared for any awkward interactions. Luckily, no one but a housekeeper was about.

"Where's Wammy?"

The housekeeper turned round. "Oh it's you! Haven't seen you in months. Wammy's on the drive, tinkering with his car."

L ventured outside, squinting in the sudden sunlight. There was Wammy, dressed incongruously in overalls and covered in oil, peering into the bonnet of the black Rolls Royce.

"Wammy, Fen's sent me a place and time. It's in The Mendip Hills. It's logical to assume she wants me to go there. What does this mean? Is it a trap? I don't understand."

Wammy looked up to see genuine confusion on the young man's angular face. "Now does that really seem likely to you?"

"No, but-"

"Well, haven't you considered that she just wants to see you? Because she likes you?"

"Likes me?" L scratched his head, nonplussed.

"Think about it. You two have had some great interactions the last couple of weeks, you go out dancing together and you get in a fight over her with another man, and then leave without leaving any contact details. Now if I know anything about women, that kind of behaviour is very mysterious and sexy to a woman."

"Sexy?" L looked even more mystified.

"Yes. She probably finds you attractive, and simply wants to see you again."

"Oh. I see. I suppose that could be a logical scenario." L's thumb came to his mouth as he tried to suppress a smile. "So should I go?"

"Definitely." Wammy nodded his head. "I'll take you, and I'll stay in the car nearby so if it turns out to be a trap – which I highly doubt – I can get you out of there fast."

"Thank you. I'd like that."

As they arrived at the hills at one o'clock, L still hadn't said a word all journey. Wammy parked, and L gripped his arm. His eyes bored into the older man's.

"I can't do this. It's too risky. Leave. Now." He commanded.

"Come on, we've got this far. It'll be alright," Wammy comforted. "You're wearing one of the alarm belts, aren't you? I'd be there in seconds if something went wrong." He prised L's pincer-grip off his arm gently but firmly, and L made a strangled noise in his throat.

"Yes, I'm probably being irrational, aren't I."

"Yes, you are. It's good to be reasonably paranoid, but don't let it ruin what could be a lovely afternoon."

L nodded glumly, and got out of the car. He looked more like a man walking to his execution than a man off on a countryside 'date' with a beautiful girl. Wammy's laugh rumbled gently, and the sight through the car window of Wammy laughing seemed to ruffle L's ego, who steeled himself, put on his best neutral face, and began leaving the small car park up a pretty path through some trees.

Rose sat cross-legged on a flat rock, warmed by the sun, a basket of picnic food on the grass below the rock. She checked the time on her phone. 13:23. Would Ryuzaki come? She knew there was a significant chance that he'd avoid the invitation altogether. _But I really need him too. I really need to establish whether or not he is L, somehow. It will change a lot of things if he is. God, I hope he isn't._

At exactly 13:25 Rose heard twigs cracking beneath the trees off to her left, and turned to see a black-haired, curve-shouldered figure approaching slowly, barefoot. An involuntary grin spread over her face.

"Ryuzaki!" As the strange willowy man got closer and Rose could see his face properly, with its sunken eyes, sharp cheekbones and down-turned mouth, she was surprised at how happy she was to see him. It was as if she'd been waiting for this moment with baited breath for days, and now she could breathe again.

L looked at Fen's radiant smiling face, and relaxed a little. _No trap could look so pleased to see someone, could they?_ "I got your puzzle."

"Lucky you noticed it! I made it extra hard so I knew that only you would be able to solve it. Well, theoretically – if any random person turns up in the next few minutes we'll know someone out there is as clever as you!"

"That's perfectly possible," Ryuzaki replied modestly, but Rose could see from his cocky half-smile that he immodestly thought the complete opposite. _Sky-high confidence in his abilities: one point to 'Ryuzaki = L' team._ There was a moment silence as the contemplated each other. Soft wind rustled through the grass, and a few birds were singing a sparse and delicate song.

"So," Rose ventured, "shall we go for a bit of a walk?"

"If you like," Ryuzaki responded impassively. "I suppose that's what people do in places like this."

They followed a meandering path up a grassy gradient, silent in the exertion of climbing. At the top they turned around. Rose sighed with contentment at the gorgeous vista of rolling countryside that opened up before them. Patchwork fields were laced together with hedges and trees and winding roads. As the scene expanded towards the horizon, the clarity dimmed to a misty sunlit impression of shapes, before meeting a blue horizon.

"What do you think?" She asked. Ryuzaki was silent for so long after her question, staring off at the horizon, that she asked him again.

"Ryuzaki is thinking that he stares at computer screens too much," he admitted eventually. Rose felt something tug inside her chest. _Why was using the third person so cute?_

"As do I," she agreed. "My father used to bring me here when I was younger. I've always loved it." Well, it had been Isaac not her father, but _close enough_.

"Hey, I've got a great idea!" Rose exclaimed, as if suddenly hitting upon some inspiration. "Why don't we do some tracking?"

"Tracking?"

"Yeah, you know, searching the floor for tracks and stuff and trying to find some animals! My dad used to try and get me to do it and I didn't see the point for ages, but it's actually really fun, it's like looking for clues." _Say yes, go on._

"That could be fun," L drawled in monotone, betraying nothing, but he was actually quite interested at the prospect.

Rose led him to some nearby woods, filling him in on the things to look out for. "Scuffs in the leaf-litter, droppings, recently-eaten foliage, noises, burrows, that kinda thing."

After a few minutes, without intending to be, Ryuzaki was completely absorbed in the task. Rose participated, whilst observing him closely, and letting him take the lead. L crouched down, his intense gaze flicking over the forest floor.

"Here's a zigzag trail of scuff-marks at regular intervals. Judging from the spacing between them, the animal is large, but the prints themselves are small. This suggests a deer. And here, look," he pointed to a print that had landed in some mud clear of leaves, "you can see the outline of the cloven hoof, pointing off to the left. So now we have the identity and direction of our prey." He stood up and followed the marks forward with great concentration. Rose followed him, but soon the ground became quite scuffed indeed and the trail was no longer clear.

L's eagle eyes darted around the floor. "There's a lot of confusion here. As if there's more than one animal. It's not easy to tell where they go next." He lifted his gaze to the surrounding trees. "Now, if I were a deer in this patch of forest, where would I be going? He mused. "Well it's a hot day. Things are quite and calm, the birds are singing softly, there has been no recent disturbances. I'd probably think it was safe to go and find some water. Which means down that slope, towards the sound of that stream."

"That's a good idea, there's a beautiful pond down there!" Rose said brightly, but her heart was sinking. _Nobody could be going about this MORE like a detective._ They ambled slowly down the wooded slope towards the sparkling brook that chattered and tinkled over jagged stones.

"Aha!" L cried softly, "look, these ferns have been nibbled at very recently, you can see the edges of the bites are still wet. And..." his keep eyes swept the floor, "yes here is the trail of prints again!"

"Wow, I hadn't spotted those plants – you're a natural," she said admiringly, and meant it.

The crept down the bank of the stream, slower this time, Ryuzaki in the lead. As they began to round a small outcrop of rocks he stopped dead, and grabbed her hand to stop her moving forward. She knew this meant they'd found the deer. Incredibly cautiously, they leant sideways to peer around the rock.

By the side of the small pool, that Rose dimly remembered from walks with Isaac, was a mother roe deer and her gangly teenage faun. They were drinking peacefully from the still black water, short fur gleaming rust-brown in the dappled sunlight, eyes as soft, jet-black and entrancing as Ryuzaki's. Rose's heart was thudding. She told herself it was from the exhilaration of secretly observing the beautiful creatures, but it was rather more to do with the warm pressure of Ryuzaki's hand on hers. He hadn't moved it, and Rose was painfully conscious of the feeling of his skin, and the scent emanating from his shoulders where her head was nearest to. He had two smells. One layer was of something perfumed and sweet, like strawberries or roses, and the other was of something far mustier, complex and primal. It was the smell of man.

It made her so dizzy that she lost her footing and stumbled inelegantly into him, knocking him over. The deer, startled, darted off like lightening into the bushes, sending a couple of blackbirds squawking into the sky. They had collapsed into an awkward heap in the leaf-litter.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" she stumbled, picking herself off him as quickly as possible.

"Don't worry, I understand, that experience was quite intense, wasn't it," he replied, wicked humour dancing in his face and voice.

 _Does he mean the deer or the closeness of us?_ The devilish look in his eyes suggested the latter, and Rose blushed like a schoolgirl, turning around to brush leaves off her back and to avoid the embarrassment of him seeing her red face.

"So," she said, composure regained. "Shall we find somewhere to eat the picnic I brought?" Rose asked, motioning the basket that she had dropped in the incident.

"Do you have sugary things?" He inquired keenly.

"Of course. How could I forget seeing you eat those sugar cubes you oddball," she teased, and they stood up to find a good spot. After a few minutes an emerald-green patch of moss beneath some feathery birch trees caught Rose's eye.

"There!"

She sat, and he crouched, as she spread out a selection of foods. There was lemon cake, fresh strawberries and cream, Lindt chocolate and a small trifle for Ryuzaki, and a large salad dressed with balsamic vinegar and olive oil for Rose. Ryuzaki grinned.

"If I didn't know any better Fen, I'd think you were trying to follow the advice of that old saying."

"What saying?"

"'The way to a man's heart is through his stomach.'" His grin widened evilly as he dangled a strawberry before him, like a cat playing with a mouse.

"Don't get your hopes up too much! Though, incidentally, is it working?"

Ryuzaki chewed the strawberry solemnly. "Well, they are excellent strawberries. So, perhaps. I'd say there's a 50% chance."

"Only 50? I'll have to try harder." Rose mocked a sigh. _His guard's down. Time to ask some questions._ "Ryuzaki, I still feel like I know nothing about you. Where did you grow up? What was it like?"

"In London with my mum. We moved around a few times. I was an only child, so I was probably quite lonely. It was okay I suppose. You can't really analyse a whole childhood just like that though."

"True," Rose acknowledged. _He's lying. It's a good lie, I probably wouldn't notice if I didn't KNOW he was brought up by 'Wammy'. Fuck. Third point to 'Ryuzaki = L' team._

"Are you attracted to me?"

The question caught her off guard. He had said it so casually whilst dissecting lemon cake, he wasn't even looking at her, that she wondered if she'd misheard him. "That's not the sort of question people just come out with, Ryuzaki, has life taught you anything?" Rose tried to tease, but sounded flustered.

"You're right, if there's one subject I know little about, it's attraction. Hence the question. I need your answer to confirm or disconfirm my observations." His expression was devastatingly neutral.

"Well, I'm teaching you the lesson that you never just ASK a girl if she's attracted to you! In games of flirting it's all supposed to be in silent, mysterious communication. You're supposed to just _know,_ kind of, _sense_ it."

"I see. But how do you know if you're right?"

"That's the fun bit, trying to guess if they feel something for you."

"Mmm, that makes sense."

Rose watched Ryuzaki demolish the lemon cake steadily. Phenomenally, he only had the trifle left already. _Two can play your uncomfortable game_ , Rose thought. "Are you attracted to me?" She sent back to him. His eyes lifted from the lemon cake for the first time in minutes. He considered the question for a moment.

"Well... When I'm away from you, I think about you. When I think about you, I want to see you. When I see you, my pulse rises about 20%, and I want to be near you. And when I'm near you, it rises a further 10%, and I want to touch you. And when I touch you, I never want to stop touching you. Your voice makes the hairs stand up on my skin, and your smile makes me want to smile. The smell of you makes me want to... well, I won't mention that. Do these things mean I'm attracted to you?"

Rose gulped like a goldfish, frozen to the spot. Ryuzaki was looking at her so calmly, as if he'd just asked her what she thought of the weather. "I – er – yes? Yes, that's attraction I believe."

"Good, I thought so." And with that he continued eating cake. _Whhhaaaat_ , thought Rose. _I don't understand this guy! He can't just say that then continue eating cake as if nothing has happened!_ All thoughts of Ryuzaki being L were forgotten, she desperately wanted that theme to carry on.

"You, you can ask me again if you really like." She offered nervously, after a quiet minute or so. He raised his eyes from the cake once more. There was a pause. The birds sang.

"Fenella Green are you attracted to me?"

"Yes." She said simply.

She watched as he fell forward out of his crouch and onto his knees. He was much nearer now, and there were ebony flames burning in his eyes. Rose waited uncertainly for something to happen.

"Kiss me."

It was said softly, hoarsely, huskily, but it wasn't a question or a suggestion. It was a command.

Rose moved forward as if under a spell, incapable of refusing the order. Her hand, shaking slightly, tentatively reached for his cool marble cheek. Her nose brushed his, and after a moment of delicious, tortuous hesitation, she leaned in and kissed him.

Silent fireworks exploded in her mind. The lips were as soft as silk. Nothing else mattered in the world.

They pulled away from each other an inch. Rose hesitated. _Is it acceptable to kiss him again?_ Luckily she was spared the decision, because Ryuzaki leant forward and kissed her. It was clumsy and tentative, but even better than the first. They exchanged a few more, lips reaching for each others' with increasing urgency, hands exploring the feeling of each other's hair, cheek and neck, before Rose felt a sudden numbing flashback to being twelve years old and with regret had to pull away. This hadn't happened when she was drunk – it seemed being sexual when sober was a lot more difficult to handle.

"Is something wrong?" Asked the annoyingly perceptive Ryuzaki.

"Sorry," Rose breathed, trying to gently shake the memories out of her body and mind, "I just, struggle with physical contact a bit."

He was watching her carefully with those dark orbs. "Did I do something wrong?"

"NO!" She exclaimed vehemently. "Not at all!"

He nodded. She was clearly telling the truth. "Okay. May I hold your hand?"

"Yes, that would be fine." Rose smiled. "In fact, I'd like that."

They finished the rest of the picnic hand in hand, talking of inconsequential matters. As the sun began to curve downwards, she asked for his number.

"I don't have a phone I'm afraid, I've never needed one."

 _Bullshit,_ Rose thought. _No computer programmer wouldn't have a phone_. "Okay, how about Facebook? An email address?"

"I've got an email."

They exchanged emails, and parted ways. When Ryuzaki was out of sight, Rose doubled back and followed him discreetly. She followed him back passed the rock where they'd first met, and through the band of trees towards a small car park. From behind an oak tree Rose saw him get into the passenger seat of a gleaming black Rolls Royce, and sucked in her breath, clenching her teeth with anger.

 _You're no computer programmer. Ryuzaki – L – you are the world's leading detective. Why? Why did it have to be you?!_

Wammy glanced sideways at L as he pulled out of the car park.

"So it wasn't a trap then?" He joked.

"No." L was wiggling his toes, a small smile on his face. "Well, in a way it was."

"Oh? How do you mean?"

"Ryuzaki is in a new sort of trap. I don't trust her obviously, but I _like_ her. She's got me. I'm trapped, Wammy." He laughed gently. "And I don't even mind."

 _Thanks to the people reading this, it's lovely knowing someone reads your words! What do you think of the story? Where do you think it's going?_


	13. Chapter 13: Unravelling

_Sorry this one's a bit shorter, it didn't make sense to tack it onto the last OR the next chapter so it's separate = ]_

 _Also, to the guest reviewer who asked how frequently I update this, it's currently at a chapter a day, glad to hear you're enjoying it! Peace x_

Rose hardly noticed the journey as she took a bus and train back to Bristol. She twisted her fingers round each other over and over, staring blankly out of the window.

 _What should I do?_ She asked herself again and again.

 _On the one hand, I'm in a position of unprecedented power. I am possibly the only person in the world outside of that orphanage to know L's true identity. I could have him crushed in a matter of days, and it would be the best possible service to the criminal underworld in history. My parents would be so proud! With just the police against us, little would stand in The Group's way. And I'd be very rich. Nothing is stopping me – he's just a guy I've met a handful of times and have had some fun with, nothing more. Just because we've got to know each other doesn't mean I have to abort the job. I don't owe him anything. I've betrayed people at this level of friendship countless times, this is no different._

 _But it IS different!_ Nagged another voice at the back of her mind. _Ryuzaki, L, is the only person you've met to match your intelligence. That alone is a good reason to keep him alive. But it's more than that even, and you know it. He's beautiful, he's funny, he's lonely, and he makes you feel alive like no one ever has before. Don't tell yourself it's nothing. This is nothing like the other times. And what do you owe The Group, anyway? Your parents are dead. There's nothing tying you to it now._

Rose smacked her fist angrily on the window of the train, startling the passenger opposite her. She'd never been in such an annoying dilemma. _A man I've just met, or the entirety of my normal life?_ The answer should have been obvious. _And yet..._

As she arrived back home she began to strike upon an idea. Rose paced around the room, thinking it through.

"Maybe it doesn't have to be an either/or?" She wondered aloud.

 _Maybe I don't have to be on anyone's side. I'm in the ideal position to protect BOTH of them! I can play them off each other, help The Group occasionally, help L occasionally, and always make sure it's too hard for either to catch the other! This way saves my skin, too – leading L away from The Group will ensure he doesn't find out that the underworld detective is me. And pretending to have found little on L will stop The Group from killing him. It's perfect!_

Several days passed. Rose was back in her normal routine – rising early, training hard, submitting puzzles, and working as a detective for the rest of the day. Except now she was playing a new game. Now Rose worked for no one but herself – balancing the flow of information between The Group and L. She informed The Group, with much show of regret, that it was still impossible to uncover L's true identity. She strengthened the online 'paper trails' of The Group's money laundering to make it ever harder for L to notice any unusual patterns in GoodPharma's economic transactions. All was going to plan.

Yet it wasn't the only new dimension to Rose's existence. For the first time in her life, she understood what it meant to feel lonely. As the sun began to set each evening, earlier and earlier now that autumn was coming, she'd lean on the windowsill gazing out over the rooftops and the tops of the trees that were becoming violent red and burnished gold. Wrapping her arms around her shoulders, she felt the immense empty space around her, and longed that there was another pair of arms to hold her.

Rose was too paranoid to contact L, Ryuzaki, as Fen just yet. She wasn't sure how good of an act she could keep up anymore. Part of her desired to confess everything to him, to renounce her upbringing and become a normal citizen. But she knew what would really happen if she did – he wouldn't forgive her. The only arms around her would be the cold arms of prison walls, the only human contact with derisive guards and mediocre criminals. No. _Until I come up with a better plan, I'll just have to keep playing this game_.

A week had passed since L had met Fen in The Mendip Hills. He'd be working solidly on the case, but hadn't got very far. It was confusing. Something felt wrong. His nemesis – Rose, if it turned out that his hunch was correct – had ceased being on the offensive. There were no more false trails, no more evidence of police involvement, no more... nothing.

 _Perhaps my address to her at that last police meeting scared her off._ _But she must know that it's still impossible for me to find her, no one of their intelligence would be so easily scared by my bluffing._ _So, what's her real motive for calming the attack?_

He mused this way for a long time, spinning his computer chair slowly. Periodically, a couple of times an hour all week, his thoughts drifted to Fen. But he brushed them aside. Now was a time to focus on work. L contemplated the piece of cake in front of him. It was a masterpiece, a triple-layered tower of chocolate heaven, with curls of solid chocolate and a thick chocolate cream on top. But for once he didn't feel very hungry.

Not hungry. _That was what Isaac said Rose was like._ _Not hungry..._ He remembered Fen at the picnic, picking slowly at her minimal salad, almost as if she was eating it out of necessity rather than pleasure. And then other memories started to piece themselves together in his mind, forming an uncomfortable mosaic that he didn't want to see.

"' _Sorry, I just, struggle with physical contact'"..._ L stiffened at the recollection, gripping his knees. He remembered how easily she had analysed him that post-drunken night in the park. He remembered the skill and finesse of her puzzles, and the symbol of the rose. He remembered how intently she'd watched his behaviour when they tracked the deer through the woods, how unsure she'd been – as unsure as himself – of being able to see each other again, when they parted ways in the hotel. It all built a picture that he didn't want to believe. But a possibility was a possibility, and had to be followed up.

L picked up his phone and dialled a number. "Wedy," he greeted, in a voice devoid of emotion. "I could do with a little help if you've got a moment. I'm back at base."

"Sure, I'm not busy, I'll be over as soon as I can."

He spent the next hour chewing his thumb. The nail was bitten back as far as it would go, and the skin around it was getting red and sore. Finally a knock on his door heralded the arrival of Wammy escorting Wedy.

"What's up boss?"

"Take a look at these pictures. Does this person look familiar?"

L had Fen's page on the governmental database and her Facebook up side by side. Wedy peered over his shoulder, and her eyes widened.

"Wow L, how did you find her! That's Rose. She's a few years older, but that's her for sure."

"Are you sure?" L voice was deadly quiet.

"Yes. Without out a doubt."

Wammy approached, saw the screen, and took a sharp intake of breath. "L..."

L didn't respond. "Thank you Wedy. I think it would be best if you leave now."

"Oh, sure," the blond woman said uncertainly, and made her way out. Wammy opened the door for her apologetically, before turning back into L's living room.

"L ..." Wammy ventured. The younger man still didn't respond. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it's not your fault. I should have picked up the similarity sooner." L's voice was calm and controlled, but inside he was screaming. _This is why you never interact with people, this is why you never let them in. You fool. You fucking fool._

"What should we do?"

"Well there's no need for the interrogation room, since she knows what I look like. Bring her here. Be careful, Rose is a highly dangerous individual. Use whatever means necessary, force if you have to."

"L-"

"Just do it!" L's voice cracked. Wammy left the orphanage with a heavy heart.

 _Yeah sorry this one is all cliff-hangers leading into the next chapter, tomorrow's will be more satisfying, honest! Thanks very much for reading_ _reviews always gratefully received x_


	14. Chapter 14: Interrogation

_Thanks for the interest you've expressed in this story, means a lot = ] I'm sorry it's gonna got pretty dark for the next few chapters, so I apologise in advance for the lack of humour and fluff for a considerable while! Hope you don't mind haha_

Rose jerked awake, sat up with alarm. _I can't see! Fuck why can't I see?_ As the adrenaline pushed the sleepiness out of her brain, she realised there was a black cotton bag over her head. She sprang to her feet on the bed, but struggled to balance because her hands were tied behind her back. _No, not tied, handcuffed_.

"Who's there?" she cried, heart thudding, turning her head this way and that, kicking out her legs at the empty air, totally blind.

"My name is Watari."

Rose gasped at the name, and sank to her knees. "So he's found me already. Are you taking me to the police?"

"Not quite yet. L needs to interrogate you first."

Rose sucked in her breath, clenching her teeth hard. _Everything is ruined. My life is ruined. My life is over._ "Watari, I wasn't going to let them kill L! You must believe me!"

"Trying to convince me of that won't help you. It's him you need to convince. Now, will you come quietly, or do I need to drug you?"

"I'll come quietly, I promise."

The man led her down her own steps, guiding her firmly. Rose wondered what time of night it was. Maybe about 4am. She tried to process the fact that her unremarkable yesterday was the last day of freedom, ever. Would she go down for life? _Probably._ Rose shook with fear.

The two and a half hour drive was torture. Watari had cuffed her legs to something so she couldn't move. All was silent, dark, dreadful. He hadn't taken the bag off her head and the patch of cloth in front of her nose and mouth was wet from her breath. Eventually she was bundled out at the other end and led stumblingly over a gravel drive and down a maze of corridors. Her legs felt as weak as jelly. When they came to a stop, Watari cuffed her ankles to a chair, and finally took off the black cotton bag.

She was in a dark oak-panelled living room, with a fireplace flanked by a pair of expensive wing-backed armchairs off to her right. The carpet and curtains were plush and embroidered. And slightly off to the left, standing beside a desk, was L.

Rose's eyes widened, her heart felt like it stopped. She'd expected it to be Ryuzaki, but even so, the proof-in-the-flesh was hard to take. He stood with his hands in his pockets, face drawn, mouth downturned, eyes blank.

"Rose. That is your name?"

Rose shivered at the sound of her name in his deep voice, and looked away from his face with guilt.

"Y-yes."

L's already blank face somehow grew more empty. "Fenella Green is a fake identity?"

"Yes."

"Then you know why you're here. Because you're a criminal detective. The one who, amongst their many other crimes, has been attempting to reveal my identity to The Group. For a large sum of money, I imagine."

Rose bowed her head in shame, and nodded.

"What was the plan, you tell them who I was, they send out a petty criminal to cut my throat?"

"No!" Rose protested, "I wasn't going to let them kill you! Well, I was at first, but that was before I knew you!" Even to herself it sounded like a lame excuse.

"Spare me the lies. It'll make this process a lot quicker and easier."

"I wasn't lying," she muttered. She couldn't bear to meet his emotionless gaze.

"So how did you find me?"

"I searched Ryuzaki Idukame on the governmental databases, and there was nothing. So then I tried to figure out-"

"Don't be ridiculous, you must have known from the start, how else would we have met?"

"Now hang on, you're being ridiculous," Rose felt her voice rising, "if you remember correctly, it was YOU that approached ME in the park that first morning!"

L bit back his response with difficulty. _Of course_. _She was right. This is bad, I'm letting my feelings ruin my judgement. Got to keep it under control_. "Yes I recall that now. So you mean to say that you were unaware of my identity until after the night at the jazz bar? What prompted you to search my name? And how was that enough information to know that I was L?"

"I also overheard you and Wammy, Watari, whatever, speaking on the balcony," she admitted. "You guys were speaking of an orphanage for genius children, so it wasn't hard to make the leap from what I knew of your character."

"I see. So discovering my identity was mostly a matter of luck rather than skill."

"Fuck you! I'd have got there by other means."

"And once you'd 'got there', you'd run along to The Group, tell them all you know, and L would be disposed of."

"No!" Rose yelled, getting more and more frustrated at his impassive face staring coldly across at her. "I told you already, that WAS the plan, but when I found out you were L, I couldn't do it! I- I _like_ you, okay?" She spat.

"Am I'm supposed to believe that for what reason?" L retorted, his voice rising despite himself. "You're a life-long criminal, you're schemes have probably thwarted the British police 10 times more than anyone else's little attempts, you lie, forge, spy and trick for a living, and I'm supposed to lap up a story about you not going through with your job because of some FRIENDLY FEELINGS?"

"Yes, it's true!" Rose could feel tears welling in her eyes, tears of sadness, fear, but anger too. "Why do you think I stopped all the attacks after the picnic?"

"You were just biding your time. If you'd truly had a change of heart, you'd have handed over all your information."

"Yeah," she scoffed, "and then you'd have known it was me and hated me, and I'd never have seen you again!"

"Well then, it's your lucky day isn't it, because here I am." Rose didn't know sarcasm could sound so angry.

"I would have told you, I would, but what I know about L says that he'd NEVER be kind to someone in that situation, with my crimes behind me you'd just throw me in jail instantly! You'd have no compassion, would you?"

"COMPASSION," L roared, stepping forward, "what would you know of compassion, Rose?" he spat her name like an insult. "What you do is evil! You protect evil people for money, you get innocent people killed, you must be one of the least compassionate people on the planet!"

Wammy watched warily. He'd never seen L lose his temper before. Should he intervene? Not yet, he'd see what happened.

"I don't work for anyone truly evil, you know!" Rose shouted back at him, "I only work for respectable criminals, not the murderers, torturers, rapists, just crimes that don't hurt people, you know, drugs, fraud, all of that."

"Not hurt people?" he stared at her nonplussed. "Do you honestly think that The Group doesn't hurt anyone? Are you that naive?"

Rose flinched at the question. There was a lurking sickness in her stomach.

"Aren't you forgetting the slave-labour of the people producing the heroin, the cocaine, at the other end? Aren't you forgetting the drug wars over there? The murders, the torture to cover things up and keep on top of the game? You think people addicted to these drugs aren't hurt by it, don't have their lives ruined by dealers that suck all the money and life out of them? Are you seriously that stupid?"

Rose cowered, tears flowing freely now. The sickness in her stomach was guilt. She'd always known this, really. "I guess I just didn't want to admit it. But you know what, what makes the side you work for any better, hmm?"

L looked surprised at the question. "I think that's pretty obvious."

It was Rose's turn to laugh bitterly. "Are you really that naive?" she echoed. "Do you think that the wars the West starts are about combating terrorism, or controlling other nations and taking oil for themselves? Do you really not think that the U.S. government is not the biggest terrorist organisation in the world, and the U.K. just its pathetic lapdog clinging to a memory of Empire? And what was that Empire but a gaudy civilisation built on the back of millions of slaves? Where do our clothes come from, huh? And our food? Modern-day slaves. Who keeps the world in a state of perpetual suffering? The bankers and the conglomerates and rich politicians, using a cycle of debt and fear to strike despair into the hearts of normal people, keeping their illegitimate money in tax havens, numbing us with mass media so that we don't notice how shit everything is. And you say I work for the evil guys? Hah. They're small fry compared to YOUR bosses. Don't you dare judge me, when you support that edifice of evil."

L was frozen motionless. _Got him_ , Rose thought, blinking her furious tears away.

L could feel his pulse beating furiously in his throat. He was holding his body so tense that his muscles actually hurt, and he was shaking all over imperceptibly, his hands balled into fists. He felt sick, weary, and angry, so angry, he didn't think he'd ever felt this angry before. He was so angry at Fen for being Rose, for his weakness at ever letting her in, angry at the pain in his heart, angry at her for admitting her crimes, for STILL pretending to like him, angry at her for calling him a servant of evil, angry at the doubtful spectres in his mind that whispered she was right. _This is no way to conduct an interrogation_.

He sank heavily onto the floor into a crouch. "Watari, take her away." He said wearily. "We'll continue the interrogation in the morning."

Neither slept. But when Watari brought Rose back to L's living room and re-cuffed her to the chair, both were far more collected and subdued.

"I apologise for my unprofessionalism yesterday." He said formally.

"It's okay. I'm sorry too." There was an awkward pause. "How did you find out it was me?"

"A woman who used to know you works for me now. Wedy. When I had some clues about your character, I showed her your picture and she recognised you."

"My character...?"

"Isaac told me. Isaac Goldberg."

"Isaac," Rose whispered, and her heart tugged for the only true father-figure she'd known.

"I know your history, Rose. I know about your parents, Damian and Jane, how you were brought up, everything."

Rose didn't know what to say. She didn't understand the expression on L's face.

"Before I left him, he asked me to promise to try and help you, to be kind to you. But why should I do that? His paternal adoration for you blinds his judgment. You have transgressed the law your entire life. Few people are a bigger enemy of justice."

There was a silence. _Am I supposed to answer his question?_ "And, did you promise to?" she asked him cautiously.

He watched her coolly. "No." Rose's head sunk. There was another silence, before she muttered something he didn't catch. "What was that?"

"I'll help you," she said a little louder, not lifting her face to look at him. "I'll tell you everything I know."

"That wouldn't be enough. I'd have no proof that you weren't continuing your work. And you'd have no punishment for your crimes."

"Then what would be enough?" L saw her face turn to his, saw the depth of despair written in her eyes. "Please," she pleaded, hating herself for pleading. She hated being so vulnerable. "Please, I'll do anything. Just don't make me go to prison. If there's any other way, I'll do it."

L watched her for a little longer. There was no lie in her face. _But then she's lied to me before, she could do it again_. "I've been pondering this," he said eventually. "I'll tell you what you'd have to do."

A glimmer of hope shone in her despair. "What?"

"You tell me everything you know. Not just about The Group, about everyone you've ever worked for. You give your computer, phones, and any other devices to me permanently, and tell me how to access everything so I can verify the truth of your information. You let Watari search your house and remove any other equipment pertaining to your illegal work, and replace your computer and phone with special, monitored versions of ours, that restrict their usage to what we program. You give all the money you have ever earned from illegal activities to Watari to fund his orphanages. You let me put a tracking device in your arm, and let Watari install bugs and cameras throughout your house. I won't watch it very often obviously, but they'll all be programmed thoroughly to report any abnormal patterns of behaviour or incriminating linguistic patterns, at which point I will pay attention. If you leave the house without connecting a bug to your tracking device via a Bluetooth connection, I will be alerted. These will not be removed, ever, if necessary. You will convince The Group that they will never find L – the lie won't need to last long, because with your information, I will bring them down in a matter of days. You will go about your normal job as if nothing has ever happened. You will live a normal, boring existence as penance. Think of it as a kind of house arrest. I won't tell the police who you are, I'll say I found the information through John Walding's computer. I think that just about sums it up."

Rose gulped. "And it's that or prison?"

"Correct."

Rose thought for a moment. It was heavy, but a million miles better than prison. "I'll do it. I'll do it all, I promise."

"Good." L stood up to leave. "I will ask you questions later, when Watari has retrieved your technology."

Rose watched him leave, hurt, hopeful, and confused. As he reached the door, she asked him the question burning in her mind. "Why are you doing this?"

He turned to her. His voice was icy, but his eyes were soft. "To prove a point. We have our failings, but we're the good side in all this. I'm trying to teach you about a little word you said yesterday."

"What word?"

"Compassion."

 _Feel free to comment on whatever = ] thanks for reading._


	15. Chapter 15: House Arrest

_To the guest reviewer – thanks for the comments, yeah I can take your point that maybe L was quite harsh and she gave in a bit too easily, but I definitely agree with the authors of Death Note that L is 'slightly evil' – far more good than evil, but there's that bit of darkness in him! Haha you're gonna HATE what happens next chapter if you think that was too harsh... Sorry bout that :P_

 _Hope you enjoy reading this!_

Three days later Wammy took her back to Bristol and removed the handcuffs for the first time. Rose moved her shoulders gingerly. They ached from being arched backwards for so long, and her wrists were tender. She'd slept even less than usual with her arms in that position. Not only that, the soft patch of flesh on the inside of her upper arm was throbbing gently from where the tracking device had been inserted deep into the muscle. Wammy let her out of the car wordlessly.

Rose walked up the steps into her flat slowly and tiredly. _I feel so empty_. The last three days had destroyed her. Every day she had been interrogated by L, until every last detail she could recall about the jobs she'd done had been passed on. She was utterly defeated. And it would've been easier to bear if he'd looked at her just once. But throughout the entire process L's face had stared impassively at his computer screen, or the desk, or his sugary cup of tea. His questions had been icy, formal, expressionless. Nothing she said provoked any kind of human reaction. It broke her heart.

Staring out the window, Rose saw the leaves that had been red and gold turning brown, dropping off their branches one by one, inexorably falling into winter's decay. _Everything's over. I am no longer Rose. I am Fenella Green now, forever. I'm a puzzle maker. I live in Bristol. Sometimes I go out with my 'friends'. That's it. No excitement now, no challenges now. No fulfilling human contact, no HIM._

She opened the new laptop Watari had provided. It was highly simplified and highly policed. Rose did not doubt that if she tried to use it for anything other than its allowed purposes it wouldn't work. She glanced round the room, wondering where the bugs and cameras were. Probably everywhere. Weirdly, the thought of being watched made her feel even more alone. Perhaps it just highlighted how alone she'd always been.

Two days after Rose had left, L had Wammy take in the compiled evidence of The Group to the police. Between Rose's testaments and her meticulously organised 'case files' on her computer, L had managed to frame not only key members of The Group and many of their subordinates and other affiliates, but also over twenty other people she'd worked for before. L would release those cases to the police slowly, so as to not make them suspicious as to how he'd gathered so much information at once.

Almost everything Rose had told him had led to a result. The one detail that didn't fit was the character of 'Ruth Fetter' she had described meeting at GoodPharma. Sawyer and Walding were accounted for, but the Fetter character didn't seem to exist. There wasn't much L could do to uncover her without more information, so he went ahead with giving the evidence to the police anyway.

A day later, Sawyer, Walding and all of the other people known to be involved were arrested. Thousands of pounds worth of cocaine and heroin were seized from GoodPharma, and Sawyer confessed to running the syndicate, getting a life sentence in jail.

 _Everything's gone perfectly to plan. The situation is in complete control. I've won the war_ , L tried to comfort himself, but he felt empty. It was a hollow victory. He'd won the war, but lost his drive. Justice just didn't fulfil him now.

"Ice-cream?" Wammy asked.

"Yes. Yes please. With chocolate sauce if we've got it."

Wammy and L sat in the wing-backed armchairs beside L's fireplace, Wammy reading an international political journal, L staring absentmindedly at the floor, both licking ice-creams.

"So," Wammy asked after a while, "what case are you going to take on next now that's all wrapped up?"

"I don't know. As far as I could tell from reading the police reports earlier nothing interesting is happening anywhere." L crunched into the ice-cream cone. "Maybe something abroad. I want to get away, far away."

"Yes, that's a good idea. Could I request somewhere sunny? These old bones wouldn't mind a swim in some nice warm Mediterranean sea."

"Whatever you like, you can choose." L said indifferently, before loping off towards the desk to check briefly on the Rose surveillance. He hated and loved doing it. He didn't know what made him want to, he didn't _enjoy_ the experience, he just felt compelled to look once every couple of hours. In fact, it kind of made him feel ill. But he still opened the surveillance windows every time, drinking it in hungrily, even though it made him want to smash the screen.

There she was, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, hair spilling over her shoulders, sipping a cup of steaming tea and working on the monitored laptop. The laptop monitor showed him she was making a Sudoku. Her attire was loose grey harem pants and a green hoody. _These clothes are nothing like Fen, this must be how Rose really dresses_. He switched on the audio for the living room bugs, heard gentle guitar music plucking out a hauntingly melancholy tune, and turned it off quickly. _Well she's still doing nothing suspicious._ He minimised the surveillance program.

Several days passed, and no new cases that inspired any interest in him had arisen, so L and Wammy were still at 'Wammy House'.

"So we can recuperate," was what Wammy had said.

L knew that he meant "so YOU can recuperate", and couldn't bear to see the look of concern and sympathy in his guardian's eyes.

"I'm fine Wammy, I'd be working already if there was any work worth doing."

L found himself avoiding Wammy, walking in the orphanage garden at night alone, sitting on benches for hours in the cool autumn darkness. _What am I doing? Where's my motivation?_ He wondered.

Worst of all, and L couldn't bear to admit he was doing this, whenever Wammy left the room he compulsively switched over to the surveillance program to watch Rose. He knew it was completely unnecessary – the equipment was programmed to alert him to any suspicious activity. He just couldn't help it. The anger, the sense of betrayal, the shadow of a past longing, and a little bit of guilt... it was the only thing he did that made him feel anything. And so he watched her whenever he could. It was infinitely better than the apathy and emptiness of every other waking moment.

Almost two weeks had passed, and he'd begun to understand her routine. Each night she slept for about three hours, before rising early, eating a healthy breakfast, and training for about an hour. Then she'd work on puzzles for most of the morning. After lunch she'd usually leave the house to shop, meet with friends, walk, go to a library, or some other activity. Then she'd meditate or train more gently before supper. After supper she'd read, invent more puzzles, meet with friends if she hadn't before, and then try to occupy herself through the quiet hours of the night when she couldn't sleep. _It must be hard filling her time now that her real job is gone_.

He saw how when she went out she carefully put on 'Fenella Green', and took it off when she returned, so as not to arouse suspicion in those that already knew how she dressed and acted. He saw her wade through social interactions with people not even half her intelligence. He saw her face, sad, determined, resigned, blank.

Two weeks and a day.

Wammy had left to take some kids into Winchester, and L was alone. He had been watching the news, but as Wammy left flipped over to the surveillance program automatically. What would she be doing today?

She wasn't in the kitchen area or sofa, but she wasn't out. L swapped the camera footage streaming around several cameras before locating her in the bathroom. Rose was taking Fenella's make up off, leaning towards the mirror over the sink. It was an interesting process, seeing her face become natural. Once the makeup was off, she took out the dangly earrings and her silver necklace. Then came the green jumper. _Look away_. Rose bent down and peeled off Fenella's sheer black tights and pencil skirt. _Look away, now!_ In one smooth motion, off came the blue blouse. Rose stood in black lace underwear, brushing her hair, frowning into the mirror at the knots in her chestnut locks. _Look away, what the hell are you doing?!_

L found himself frozen to the spot, hand only inches away from the mouse-click that would minimise the whole unethical situation. But he couldn't do it. The angularity of her shoulder blades, the soft undulation of her stomach, the elegance of her legs, the delicious curvature of her outline was too much. _This is wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong, snap out of it!_

Rose turned on the shower, placing the brush down on the sink, before removing the underwear and climbing into the shower. L's entire body rushed with blood, he could hear ringing in his ears. _Oh god she looks so perfect._ Water ran over her body, making it gleam. _SNAP OUT OF IT YOU IDIOT!_

Luckily at that moment the glass walls of the shower started to steam over and the spell was broken. L minimised the program guiltily and leapt as far away from the computer as possible, tearing at his hair, the guilt wrenching him in two.

"That is NOT what surveillance is for!" He berated himself. He'd never done anything like that before, it was unforgivable. _How absolutely shameful, how could you do that?! You're a genuine creep. Pull yourself together. Get out of this mess already._

Slowly he calmed himself, and peered at his reflection in the dark window. He didn't like what he saw. "I think I need to leave the country," he said to the demon in the window. "I'm going to leave here tomorrow. That decides it."

Rose hummed a song in the shower. After two weeks, she was getting somewhat used to her boring life. It was tediously dull, but it was better than prison. She barely even resented L for the situation. In the circumstances he'd been more than kind, this was infinitely better than a life behind bars.

Before today she'd been very careful to hide herself discreetly with a towel while manoeuvring into the shower, but had given up now. _What's the point? He won't be watching 99% of the time anyway, he said he would only be looking when alerted to suspicious activity. Besides, I don't even care. Before everything was ruined I'd have done more than just be naked with him if given the chance, so what does it even matter?_ _Though I imagine he'd be far too professional to keep the camera on for long once he saw. Or would he?_

She chuckled at the thought, washing her hair slowly. He'd probably kick himself. It was the first thing she'd found funny in weeks.

L and Wammy loaded a few bags into the Rolls Royce just as dawn began to show. There was a delicate grey mist hanging over the drive of Wammy House, and the gravel was cold and damp under L's feet. Pink tendrils of dawn were snaking up into the sky above the ornamental bushes lining the edge of the orphanage gardens, diffusing a soft caressing light onto everything.

No one was up yet. The estate was silent, bar the songbirds, and the sound of the occasional car drifting sleepily past the gates.

L got into the passenger seat, tucking his feet up onto the chair. They were bound for San Francisco from Luton airport in three hours time. There was a relatively acceptable serial-killing case over there. It would do.

Wammy turned the key in the ignition and the car's generous engine rumbled into life, croaking slightly at the morning's cold. As Wammy put the gears into reverse and started backing out of his parking place, a rude sound interrupted the morning's peace.

Brrriiiiinnnnggg. Brrrrriiiiiiinnnngggg. Briiiiinnnnggg.

Both L and Wammy's phones were beeping urgently with the grating sound of an alarm. L looked down with dread.

' _Suspicious behaviour detected.'_

"Wammy, we must take the computers back in the house immediately."

"Right you are, take the monitors, I'll take the rest."

They scrambled indoors, set up the machines, and open the surveillance programs. A red-bordered alert window popped up and L groaned, his insides like a lead weight, a stone, contracted tightly with bitterness.

"She's left the house without a bug."

"What do you think this means? Is it an accident, or...?"

"She's too on the ball to forget. This is no accident. This was deliberate, she's betrayed our kindness."

"Hmmm." Wammy frowned. "But surely she's also too 'on the ball' to try and evade us without cutting out the tracker? Look, it's still on."

L opened another tab, and was surprised to see that Wammy was right. "You're correct. Now that's odd. What could be her motive?"

"I don't know. But we need to get her followed, we need to have this sorted before we go to San Francisco. I'll cancel the flights."

"Yes, do that. I'll get Wedy on the case." L picked up his phone and dialled. "Wedy?"

"You really do like calling me early in the mornings, don't ya?"

"It does unfortunately seem to be the way of things, I apologise. Look, I need your help urgently. I need you to follow Rose, she's left the house without a bug. She is..." L checked the surveillance map. A red pulsing blob was inching slowly across the screen. "... apparently on the M4 motorway, heading towards London, close by to Swindon."

"Sure thing. Send me that map ya got?"

"Right away."

L hung up and cursed. _So I'll be in England for a while longer. Damnit Rose, what are you up to? Or what's someone ELSE up to?_ His brow furrowed with foreboding. Rose doing something stupid on her own accord was bad enough, but if this was down to someone else then the situation could be even worse.

 _Sooooo sorry if you thought that voyeuristic scene was well out of character! Haha I thought it was fairly believable going on the way he watches Misa's advert in the anime xD Anyway, I think all good characters need to go through a bad patch before they redeem themselves, it's all part of the story arc!_

 _Reviews always welcome = ]_


	16. Chapter 16: Ruth's Revenge

_WARNING: If you're not okay with fairly graphic violence, don't read this!_

 _Thanks for the support from those couple of people that give me feedback, means a lot = ] hope you all enjoy! Well I say enjoy... it'll be a painful kind of enjoyment..._

Wedy's motorbike sped down the M4 in the morning light. It was nearly eight, and slowly more cars, vans and lorries had been appearing on the road for the last hour. _That's good. I'll have more people to hide behind._ They had passed Reading about twenty minutes ago, and were still heading into London.

About five cars ahead of her in the middle lane was an average-looking silver Audi. If the tracking map streaming to her phone was accurate, and Wedy was sure it would be, Rose was in that car. She read out the registration number through her headpiece to L.

"WF57 UEJ."

"Thank you, I'll look it up now."

All Wedy heard for a few minutes was the roar of her bike, before L's voice came through again.

"Got it, that vehicle was stolen yesterday. Don't lose them."

"I won't."

Eventually the Audi led her into south London. She followed it down high-streets and through suburbs to a warehouse district, where the car drew up to the curb. Wedy parked her bike round the corner and walked round to the street cautiously. As she rounded the corner, she saw a metal-grilled door of a rundown warehouse being pulled shut.

"She's entered a building. It looks unused."

"Okay. Can you get in there?"

Wedy approached the warehouse casually, eyes scanning the two storey red-brick front. A broken window on the second floor caught her eye. "Yes, there's a window I can climb through if I use the guttering."

"Do it. Don't let yourself be seen."

"Naturally."

Wedy scaled the wall, teetering slightly when a length of guttering slipped loosely in her hands, but made it to the broken window. She climbed through gingerly, avoiding the jagged edges of broken glass.

"I'm in."

"Okay. Try and locate her, be careful."

Wedy picked her way through the empty room. Empty cans, a few dirty needles and a soiled mattress told her the warehouse had been squatted recently. The map on her phone suggested she was right on top of Rose, so she must've been on a different floor. She found a dusty staircase, and walked down it as silently as she could. There was no one on the ground floor either.

"I think she must be in a basement. I'll try and get closer."

The ground floor was composed of several disused factory spaces, with dirty obsolete machinery patterning each room. Soon she found another staircase that led to a lower level. Peering down it, she could see the dim forms of a burly man and a tall woman standing guard outside a heavy fire door.

"There's two guards in the basement outside some room. They're dressed in black with balaclavas, and they're armed with guns."

"This isn't good. Keep your distance for a while."

Wedy hung around the stairs, before a clunking of metal somewhere off to her right warned her of someone else approaching. She darted off to the other side of the room, ducking behind some complicated machine, and watched the figure walk to the stairs.

"A woman has arrived. She's got steel-grey hair and a pin-striped suit – she's going down the stairs."

"Don't make any moves yet. Wait to see what happens."

About half an hour passed. Wedy didn't move from her cramped position behind the broken machines. Then she heard low voices, and the steel-haired lady and two bodyguards emerged from the basement.

"They've left. Rose wasn't with them."

"Yes, the map told me that much. Do you think it's safe to go downstairs?"

"Yes I believe so."

Wedy carefully manoeuvred herself onto the basement level. The corridor was empty, patches of damp spreading across the dark ceiling. She tested the door gingerly, but of course it was locked.

"I can't get in. The door is heavy and industrial. With the right equipment it would be easy, but I've got nothing on me."

"Don't worry. How long would it take to get the equipment you need?"

"Two hours there, two hours back."

"Alright, do it. Do you have any bugs on you?"

"Yes."

"Can you fix one to the bottom of the door somehow?"

"Shall do, boss." Wedy attached the bug, and sped away to her bike.

Rose awoke from the drug induced stupor at a powerful slap to her face. It took a while for her to focus. A dingy windowless room swam groggily into view, unappealing patches of mould spreading in the corners. Once again her wrists and ankles were cuffed to a chair. There was only one person in the room, and Rose gasped as the lady in the pin-striped suit morphed into focus.

"Ruth Fetter." She slurred. The lady observed her coldly.

"Hello Rose. I think you know why you're here."

"N-no. What's going on?"

"Somehow, an awful lot of confidential information got passed to the wrong hands. _Somehow_ , an awful lot of our members are now in prison. How do you reckon that happened?"

"I- I don't know! I don't!"

The woman's bony hand slapped her hard across the face again. "Don't lie to me. There's only a very few people who know that much about us, and out of all of them, I trust you the least. It's a good job we were cautious and used the idiot Sawyer as our fake leader, coz look where that got him." She laughed dangerously. "Well I can tell you Rose, you're not the only powerful female in the underworld. Do you know who really runs the game?" Ruth, or whoever she really was, stepped forward and pulled Rose's head back forcefully by the hair. " _I do,_ " she whispered into her ear. Letting go, Rose's head flopped back down again, heavy from the sedative.

"So, Rose. What do you know about L?"

"I don't know anything."

"Don't be silly. You can share it with aunty Ruth."

"I don't know anything." Her voice was dull and incoherent from the drugging. Ruth tsked in annoyance, and pulled her hair back again to stare into Rose's doped eyes.

"I see. You're not much use right now, are you. I'll come back when you're sober. But before I go, I'll leave you with a parting gift that might help jog your memory."

Rose's blurry eyes saw Ruth take something small out of the pocket of her pin-striped jacket. It swam into focus. _It's a knife._

"No, please, don't!"

"No, I will, I honestly think it will make this process more successful."

"No!"

It was too late. Ruth had walked behind her and taken hold of one of her arms.

"Aaargggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" The pain in her hand ripped a scream out of Rose she didn't know existed. She could feel blood pulsing out of the hole where her right-hand little finger had been. A second later another pain, and Rose howled again as Ruth burnt the wound shut with a jet-lighter. Through a haze of tears and sedative Rose saw the steel-haired woman walk calmly back in front of her, and drop something onto the floor in front of her. It looked like a maggot. Rose blinked. _That's my finger._

"That should help. When I return later, I hope to find you more ready to answer my questions."

As the woman left, Rose whimpered and sobbed uncontrollably. After five minutes, she'd passed out cold.

 **(gap)**

Wedy got back to the warehouse in just under four hours, but peering discreetly down the stairs to the basement told her that she was too late.

"L I'm sorry, they got back before me. The guards are back."

"That's unfortunate. I've sent Aiber to back you up, I don't know when he'll arrive though. Sit tight."

"Sure thing." Wedy backed behind the machinery once more as she heard footsteps. For the second time, the lady in the pin-striped suit was entering the basement. "She's back!"

"Okay. I'll listen in to what happens, and we can work from there."

 **(gap)**

L heard a crunching noise as the door the bug was attached to was pushed open and shut. Footsteps clacked across a floor, which sounded like high heels on concrete. There was a slapping noise and a groan. _What the hell's going on in there?_

"Time to wake up." Commanded a woman's voice. "Lift your head, look me in the eyes." There was a silence. "Good, you look sober now. Perhaps you won't give me such idiotic answers."

"Please," spoke a quiet voice, racked with pain, "please don't do this". It sounded familiar, but strange at the same time. _Oh god, is that her?_ There was a muffled thump, and the second woman ( _is that Rose?_ ) yelped.

"Quit whining, you brought this upon yourself. Now I'm going to ask you some questions. What do you know about L?"

L gasped and gripped his knees harder. _It must be her. There's no one else it could be._

"I- I don't know anything."

"Liar!" There was another smacking sound, this time on skin, and another yelp. _Did she hit her in the face this time? Fuck, what am I supposed to do?_

"Tell me what you know about L, Rose. Or you'll lose another one."

"Lose another what?!" L cried out to the empty air. _Where's Wammy?_

"Please," Rose sobbed, "Not again."

"Then you'd better tell me!"

"I don't know anything!"

The unknown woman's voice sighed with impatience. "You really give me no choice."

Footsteps. Then a bloodcurdling scream of agony tore its way through to L and made him bite down hard on his thumb till it bled.

Then silence. The woman snorted. "Pathetic, I can't believe you just passed out again. I'll be back in the morning, Rose. Have a lovely sleep."

Footsteps. The door crunched open and shut. Then came the voice again, speaking to the guards. "I need you here permanently, now. Check on her regularly, if she looks like she's going to die, do something about it."

"Yes ma'am."

Wammy burst back into the living room, and saw L shaking on the computer chair in silence. "L, what's going on?"

"Someone is torturing Rose."

"Then why haven't you done anything? Get her out of there! Wedy's at the scene, isn't she?"

"Yes, I know," L replied dully.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"Two things." L moaned and rubbed his eyes. "Firstly, Wedy alone can't take down both guards, the other would shoot her once she got to the first. Secondly..." he gritted his teeth. "Don't you see? If Rose gets through this, if she doesn't reveal us, it means she can trust her." He groaned again, biting his bloody thumb. He looked up at Wammy, and shuddered. The old man was staring at him as Frankenstein stared at his monster. His demon creation.

"It's the only way she can ever be free. If she says nothing... she can have her life back."

Wammy sat down heavily. "I don't like this. I don't like this at all. This goes against every moral code in the civilised world."

"I know!" L cried in anguish. "I hate it as much as you do. I hate what I'm letting happen. But if she doesn't... it's the only way she'll ever be free."

"I've always trusted your judgment in matters like this. If she keeps her word, and she dies..." Wamm stood up to leave. "I hope you haven't got this wrong. Don't let her die. I could never forgive myself. Or you."

"I understand. Neither could I."

L sat alone in the darkness and the silence for hours that he couldn't count. He curled into a ball, self-loathing eating at his insides like a corrosive poison. _It's for the best, it's for the best, it's for the best._ He could barely believe his own words.

After what felt like years, Wedy's voice crackled through.

"Aiber's arrived."

"Okay. Don't do anything yet, the situation's still uncertain," he lied.

Another hour passed.

"L, she's back."

L's whole body constricted with fear. "Hold tight. I need to listen to what's going on."

There was the familiar crunching sound of the door being opened, the clicking of heels on concrete, and pathetic moan.

"Hello Rose. Are you going to cooperate now?"

There was another moan.

"Speak to me!"

"Water," rasped Rose's broken voice. There was some shuffling sounds, and a few desperate gulps.

"There. Speak. What do you know of L?"

There was an extended pause. L pulled at his hair. _She's going to reveal me now._

"I don't know anything."

L winced at the sound of two consecutive thumps. "Lies! Why are you protecting him? It can't be to save yourself – you're in a more compromised position now than any legal detective would put you in. What's the matter?" the woman snorted, "do you have some kind of feeling of loyalty to this mysterious detective? Well it's clearly misplaced – look where you are, and precious L hasn't come to save you."

There was a horrifying slliiiiickkking noise, and several ragged gasps.

"Tell me what you know about L!"

The ragged gasps began to slow into deep breaths.

"You know why I won't tell you? Because he's a better person than I could ever be. And if I have to die to protect him then I will. It's what I deserve."

The woman hissed. "Pathetic. Is that your final answer?"

 _She really means it. She means it! If she could see me now, Rose wouldn't be saying these things... Fuck. Final answer?_ A rush of dreadful foreboding flooded L's being. "Wedy, Aiber!" L cried desperately, "get down there at once! For fucks sake hurry, get her out of there, I don't care how!"

"Yes, it's my final answer," whispered Rose. She sounded peaceful. "Are you going to kill me now?"

"HURRY!" Yelled L, gripping the computer with shaking white hands.

"You really leave me no choice." The woman's voice was disdainful. "I really am disappointed in you Rose. I thought you were a more independent woman than that. I thought you were like me, a kindred spirit. I'm deeply upset to be wrong on that account."

Wedy and Aiber rounded the corner of the basement stairs, and fired a shot each at the body guards. They dropped in spooky unison, the sound of the gunfire echoing and ringing around the dingy corridor.

"What was that?" Called the woman's voice sharply. "Matt, Shanice, what's going on?"

With some heavy levers Wedy and Aiber forced the industrial door open, and faltered at the scene. The woman in the pinstriped suit was backing up against the wall, a look of utter shock on her face, a small bloody knife in her hand. Cuffed to a chair was a horrifying sight. A chestnut-haired young woman sat there bruised and battered, a deep cut across her shoulder, her head swaying heavily, congealed blood pooling around her. Two fingers lay curled grotesquely on the floor.

"Get her!" yelled Wedy. Between them they brought the steel-haired woman to her knees and tied her securely. The woman's vivid green eyes flashed with madness, and she muttered indecipherable words under her breath.

Rose had passed out. They snipped the cuffs with wire-cutters, and Aiber carried her gently out of the room, Wedy leading the other woman, a gun fixed on the back of her head.

"What's going on?" L's strained and desperate voice crackled to them over the receiver.

"We've got them. It's not good."

"Is she alive?"

"Yes. But only just."

"Bring her here immediately."

"But she needs to go to the hospital!"

"Aiber, Rose technically doesn't exist, if 'Fenella' goes to the hospital there'll be no end of trouble. Bring her here, we can fix her."

"Okay, boss. I sure hope you can."

L scrunched his eyes up with anguish. And then touched his face in surprise. There was hot, salty water on his face. _Tears?_ He couldn't remember ever crying. He felt his breath shuddering in and out, and allowed the tears to flow.

Wammy, with surprising strength, picked the gangly man up out of the computer chair and sat down on the carpeted floor with the ball of L in his arms, making small comforting motions to the man that was shaking and gasping uncontrollably in his arms.

"I'm a monster Wammy, I'm a monster," he stuttered, before burying his face dripping and shining with sorrow back into Wammy's shirt, soaking it instantly.

"Sshhhh, shhh," Wammy soothed, stroking his hair. "It's my fault, I trained you this way. Sssshhh, it's over now. It's going to be okay. I'm not proud either, but what is done is done. It's all over. It's over."

 **(gap)**

 _Aaargh so do you hate me? You thought things couldn't get any worse! Haha. Yeah sorry if you don't like that I made L make the decision that he made. Feel free to comment =P_


	17. Chapter 17: Recovery

_Thank you so much for your reviews, it really makes me feel like sinking all these hours into this is worth it! Haha. Hope you enjoy = ]_

 _In response to the question of whether Near and Mello are going to make an appearance, they're definitely doing to be in ONE chapter, haven't decided if they'll play a bigger role than that yet. But some of the guys from Japan will be, so you'll get them! Peace x_

The pleasant ebb and flow of morphine, like a river of tangible sunshine, carried Rose along on its cushiony golden waters. Consciousness and unconsciousness, and many intriguing states in between, came and went. Time didn't exist. Instead was a permanent dream-world, where sights and sounds and touches morphed into one another, and colourful voices sang to her from other universes.

After who knows how long, Rose opened her eyes after a particularly unconscious phase, and a human face swam hazily before her. It was pale, with dark rings under ebony eyes, framed by matted black poker-straight locks, but tinged with ethereal silvery-gold light. She felt a smile burst over her face.

"I didn't think I was going to make it to heaven."

"You're not in heaven."

"Oh. Then this must be another dream."

"You're not in a dream."

"That's exactly what someone in a dream would say, I don't believe you." Rose giggled. The pale face looked incongruously troubled for such a wonderful scene. "Why so serious?"

"I want to tell you I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? Sssshhh. No one need be sorry when they're floating down the golden river."

"Are you okay?"

Rose giggled again, her eyes sliding shut once more. "I've never been better." Her left arm reached out blindly in front of her and scrabbled around in the air until they found a cool, soft hand. She pulled it onto the pillow next to her and held it, nuzzling into its palm. "L..." she murmured.

"Yes?" He replied, but she had already drifted off.

L brushed the hair gently off her face and sat there for a few minutes, feeling his hand grow warm between her hand and her cheek. He gazed down at the sleeping Rose tenderly, who was curled up on her side in L's double bed. L had been sleeping in the armchair in the adjacent living room for the two days that she'd been there.

When Rose had arrived, they'd sent for the housemaid, Penny, who had been a doctor before deciding the job was too stressful for her. But when she heard about Rose, Penny had willingly rolled up her sleeves and done the best she could. The cut over Rose's right shoulder was neatly stitched, and the bruises on her face and torso were fading from violent red and purple into green, pink and yellow, and ibruprofen salve had been rubbed into the them frequently to reduce the swelling.

When Rose had first arrived she was white as snow. "She's lost a lot of blood," Penny said concernedly, feeling for her pulse. "We need to replenish it as ASAP – I'll take a blood test."

"There's no need." L interjected.

"Why?"

"Because I have O Rh negative blood. It can be given to anyone regardless of blood type."

Penny grinned. "Brilliant. That saves a lot of effort. I warn you though, she needs quite a lot."

"Take as much as you need, I'll be fine."

She hooked up a thin plastic tube to a blood-bag, and attached it via some kind of syringe-like needle device into L's vein. He felt his blood throb out of him with every pulse of his heartbeat. _Have it all. You deserve it more than I._ When the bag was full, from what L thought looked like about 1.7 pints of red liquid, Penny took out the tube. He swayed in his seat, lightheaded.

"No you need to go and lie down?"

"NO! I'm fine, I want to help."

The lack of fingers had been harder to dress. There was no way of reattaching the digits without state of art modern equipment, and even then it would've been touch and go. Her right hand would always only have two and a thumb, now.

Pulling his hand out carefully from beneath Rose's cheek, L left the chair he'd been crouching on for the last hour at her side, and shuffled yawning into the living room. For the last two days she'd been mostly asleep, tossing and turning and mumbling under her breath, and L had barely left his perch on the chair beside her. When Rose was feverish and hot he fetched a cool flannel and wiped the sweat off her forehead, getting her to drink water if she was conscious enough. When she was cold and shivering, he pulled the extra blankets sitting ready on the floor on top of the duvet to cocoon her.

Every now and then it would seem like she was speaking to him, but he was never sure if that was true or if she speaking to the phantoms in her head. Just then had been the first time she'd said his name. _Get better. Please get better._ But he dreaded her getting better too – he knew that when the dosage of morphine was finally lowered, Rose would not be so happy to see him.

"You should get some rest L, you look like death," Wammy commented.

"You flatter me," L said drily. "I don't need rest, Wammy. I need to look after her."

"I'm perfectly capable of taking a shift here and there, you know."

"No," L said quietly but forcefully. "I owe it to her."

"If you insist. So what happens when she gets better?"

L plonked himself heavily into an armchair. "I don't know." He had attempted to say it evenly, but it still came out mournful.

"I think I would be correct in saying that she can't go back to being Fenella Green. We may have imprisoned that crazy woman, but I'm sure there are members of The Group out there still which would have her killed."

"You're right, Wammy. She can't go back."

"I suppose we'll have to let her decide."

"I suppose we will." L yawned, and despite himself, in the gentle heat from the crackling fire, drifted off to sleep.

 **(gap)**

Rose blinked awake. Her head felt clear, her vision was stable. She could see shafts of light striking into the room from around the closed green velvet curtain. She was in a broad white-linen bed, with an ornate carved headboard and footboard. _What sumptuous furnishings._

Moving to sit up, pain stabbed at her from her shoulder and hand. _Owwww._ She sat up more carefully, and looked at her hand. Her heart nearly stopped. Instead of her pinkie and ring finger, was a neat bandage and a gap.

"Fuck!" All her memories came flooding back at once, and Rose froze with shock. _Warehouse... Ruth Fetter... knives... gunshots... L looking after me..._ "Oh god."

She leant back against the headboard and shuddered and shook as the trauma of it all manifested itself in her body. When it finally subsided, Rose felt weak, broken, empty. But angry too. She climbed gingerly out of the bed, teetering on her floppy legs, and stumbled out of the door.

L and Wammy's heads whipped round at the sound. Rose approached the armchairs slowly, and leant her hands on the back of the sofa next to them to support herself.

"How long have I been here?"

"Five days." L's voice was impeccably neutral, but his eyes were full of fear. _Hah, good,_ _so they should be_ , Rose thought.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Shit."

L bowed his head away from the eye contact. "Of course."

"I suppose I have to thank you for fixing me up," Rose said stiffly, blankly.

"Well Penny did most of the work."

"Hmm."

There was an awkward silence.

"Why didn't you get me out sooner?" Rose whispered. The question hung in the air like a guillotine waiting to drop.

"The tracker was still in my arm. You knew I was there. Why. Didn't. You. Get. Me. Out." Each word was enunciated, precise, deadly soft.

L met her gaze, and quaked at suffering and hatred in her eyes. He gathered his courage. "I made a decision. It wasn't easy to make, and I may have been wrong to make it. But I thought in the end, maybe you'd see it my way. I could have asked for no better proof of your reliability than what you demonstrated in there. Don't you see, you can be free now! I did for you, so you could be free."

Rose laughed hollowly. "You didn't do it for me. You did it for yourself. Like everything else you ever do. You only ever do what interests you and what protects you, as long as you're safe nothing else matters, does it?"

L opened his mouth and shut it again helplessly. "You're right. I AM selfish. I did for myself as much for you. But I really wanted to be able to trust you, I needed to know you had made that choice."

"So you happy now? Now that I've humiliated myself in front of you by spouting my respect for you as you listened in? Now that I'm broken? I'm broken, L, my mind, my body, my spirit, it's all broken.

And you," she rounded on Wammy. "Why didn't you find ME as an orphan? Why was it just him? Why didn't you find me? None of this would have ever happened!"

"I'm so sorry Rose, you didn't legally exist, I couldn't know of your existence."

"What am I supposed to do now?" Her eyes were wild and hopeless with despair.

"You can stay here with us. We'll look after you, we'll do anything you need."

Rose edged round the sofa and collapsed onto it wearily. "Thank you, but I think I'd rather retain the last shreds of my dignity."

L nodded sadly. _I knew she wouldn't do it._ "When will you leave?"

"As soon as I stand up from this sofa."

"Will you not stay until you're healed?"

"No. There's no way in hell."

"We had Penny remove the tracker when she tended your wounds. You're totally free."

"Good."

"Wammy and I will find you a fake identity and get you to the next plane to your chosen destination. I'm sure you're aware you cannot remain as Fenella Green. We'll also create a bank account for you. You won't need to work for years if you don't want to. Is that acceptable to you?"

"Yes. Except for one thing – I want Wammy to do all of that. I would prefer it if you didn't know where I am."

L flinched. That hurt. "Of course." He stood up. "In that case, I won't trouble you any longer."

He began to leave the room, but turned before he reached the door. "Thank you. Thank you for protecting me. I could never thank you enough. You were amazingly strong, and I certainly didn't deserve it. If you can ever forgive me, well, you know where I am."

There was a silence, before Rose replied quietly. "I won't forget."

 _N'aww L redeems himself a little in this chapter, bless him, they've not been put in easy positions! So where will Rose go?_

 _Please do let me know what you're enjoying/disliking about the story = ] safe._


	18. Chapter 18: Cats and Cooking

_So this doesn't have any Death Note characters in this one, but there's gonna be lots in the next chapter! Hope you enjoy = ]_

Rose wandered along one of the pebbly beaches ringing Tashirojima. The foamy edges of the water lapped in and out with trance-like rhythm. It was sunset, and as the sun had been lazily falling towards the horizon the sea had been transforming from sparkling blue, to earthy pink and green, and finally towards shining grey and inky black. She shivered, and pulled her coat around her more tightly. It may have been a beautiful sunny day that day, but it was almost winter and only about 8 degrees Celsius.

As the last sunlight was sucked from the sky and the first courageous stars began to peer down, Rose headed back to the village. As she walked up a concreted fishing pier Rose stumbled over a couple of cats nestled up together for the night, and they made mewling noises of irritation at the interruption. Rose growled back at them, but fondly. It was one of the most bizarre things about this island, and one of the curious details that had drawn her to the place. Years ago she'd read in the travel section of a newspaper about a strange under-populated island on the East coast of Japan, Tashirojima, that had more semi-feral cats that people. She'd vowed that one day she would go there.

"Ey, you!"

To her surprise a voice called to her from the dimly lit porch of a fisherman's house. More surprisingly, it hadn't been in Japanese, but in English. Rose turned and saw a black lady, in perhaps her 40's or 50's, watching her keenly. The woman wore a loose dress, long braids, and a pair of glasses perched halfway down her nose.

"Yes girl, I'ma talkin' to you."

"Hello there. Do you need something?" Rose said, trying to sound polite, but her heart wasn't in it.

"Com' 'ere. Let me gets a look atcha."

Rose walked cautiously towards the cottage until she was illuminated slightly by the light emanating from the open door.

"You da girl me been seein' round for last month or so."

"Yes, that would be me. I've moved here."

"Wat your name?"

"Emily. Emily Stanton. What's yours?"

"Josie, Josie Brown. Wont'cha com' in fa som' tea, you know?"

"I really should be getting back," Rose excused lamely.

"Don' be silly girl. Josie know dere ain't no one back at ya house waitin' for ya. Com' have tea."

"If you insist." Rose smiled despite herself at the woman's forthrightness, and stepped into the cottage. The older woman flashed her a grin and revealed two missing teeth, an incisor and canine.

The cottage was small but cosy, a fire roaring in the grate, a couple of comfy-looking threadbare chairs around it. The kettle was already humming cheerily, and on the rug before the fire stretched out two gloriously ginger tomcats, bathing self-righteously in the heat like magnanimous kings.

"G'wan and sit down."

Rose obeyed, and perched on a stripy chair, leaning down to fondle one of the cat's ears. He purred deeply with pleasure. Soon the tea was made, and Rose willingly took the steaming cup.

"So," said Josie, once she'd manoeuvred herself over the toms and into a another chair, "for wat reason on dis earth is a young an' gorgeous girl like you livin' on a no-go island wit' a population of one hundred an' most all a dem ova de age of sixty five?" Her rich brown eyes stared curiously at Rose, as she pushed her glasses back to the top of her nose.

"I could ask you the same question, you speak to me in English, you're not Japanese either," Rose retorted playfully.

"Ah, das true. But me asked first, me should be de first to get an answer."

"I s'pose that's fair enough." Rose pondered what to tell her. "I lived in England all my life. Some of it was good, some of it bad. But then this year, some... things happened that made me need to leave and never go back. And so now I'm here."

"Emily love tellin' me only half a story, me sees," Josie teased. "But tell, it got to do with dose missin' fingers?" She asked astutely, her gaze lingering on the stunted right hand around the mug of tea.

Rose sighed. "You caught me out. Yes, something to do with them."

Josie nodded empathetically. "Girl don' have ta tell me if she no want to. Me understand. Couldn't tell a soul but the Lord about ma teef." She bared her teeth in a grin. "Ya see? Lived in Jamaica most o' my life. Den, dis American boy, he com' whip me off my feet, ya know? Me ran away to live with 'im in Philadelphia. 'Im was da most handsome man I ever did see, but 'im was a bad man. I loved 'im more dan I loved me own mamma, shame on me. 'Im would shower me in attention one day, and beat me the next. Me didn' know whatta think! But one day, it got worse, an' when I woke up from me faint I thought, Josie dat's it! You leavin, girl, before 'im stolen all da breath o' life out ya. Eventually me end up 'ere. Da Lord only knows how." Josie laughed merrily.

"I'm sorry to hear of your troubles," Rose offered awkwardly, not used to being in such a situation.

"Tank ya honey. Me see from dose eyes you seen a fair share of it yaself. Was it a man like for me?"

"Yes and no." Rose normally would never have been so open to sharing with a stranger, but the warmth and honesty of the smiling woman had disarmed her, and she felt more relaxed than she had in months. "My own troubles started when I was a child. There were some bad times, and men could definitely be blamed. But the troubles that made me leave?" she laughed bitterly. "I suppose you could say it my own fault. But it was also the fault of my employers. And it was also the fault of a man."

"A complex situation." Josie nodded wisely. "Me won' pry inta you business no more if it make ya feel bad. But tell me, won you stay for dinner?"

"Err, no, I'd rather not," Rose blustered. _Hell, what's the point in lying?_ "I don't really enjoy food, I'd just be wasting your generosity," she said apologetically.

Josie's eyes widened. "Not enjoy FOOD? But Emily, food is one of da greatest pleasures da lord has bestowed on us! No. Me canna take dat for an answer." She said firmly. "If you don' like food, me gon' _teach_ you to like it."

Rose laughed at the absurdity of the idea. "I'm honestly not sure you can!"

Josie's eyes gleamed with the challenge. "Me can and will. And ya know how? Me gon' teach you how ta _cook_."

"I can cook!" Rose protested. She'd have been offended if it wasn't all so absurd.

"Nah nah nah, you TINK you can cook." She winked. "Trust me. Emily, will you promise to com' here any evening you can spare, and humour an old lady's ways?"

Rose found herself grinning unintentionally. "If you insist."

"We'll start right now."

Josie got up and put a chopping board and sharp knife on Rose's lap. At the sight of the knife Rose flinched. _No no no no._ Josie's observant eyes caught the flinch, and flicked down towards the kitchen knife.

"Ah. Me sorry. How bout ya do de peelin' instead?"

"Yes, please," Rose said gratefully.

She swapped it for a vegetable peeler and two bowls. "One fo' the veggies, one fo' the peels ya know?"

Rose peeled obediently as Josie bumbled around the kitchen, singing a tune and preparing some pans. Soon she came back over to Rose.

"Well ya doin' it all very efficiently, but ent you enjoyed it yet?"

"I'm not sure how I'm s'posed to enjoy peeling vegetables." Rose was genuinely quite flummoxed at the situation she'd ended up in.

"Hey take a propa look at de broccoli. Isha wonder, don' ya think? Gifts from da Lord."

Rose was starting to think Josie was a bit crazy. "If you say so."

Josie laughed and began to dice some spices, garlic, ginger, lemongrass, chilli. "Mebbe dis will persuade you more." She threw them all in an oiled pan and they started to sear and sizzle in the heat. "Com' 'ere. Girl smell dat."

Rose obliged, and leant over the pan. The heady spicy aroma filled her nostrils and made her tingle. "Yeah, that's pretty good." She admitted.

"Ey we'll convert you yet!" Josie crowed good naturedly, and stirred the spices. "Bring me dem veggies."

When Rose brought them over, she tossed them into the pan one by one, sprinkling herbs and salt as she went.

"Ya see Emily," Josie said, "gotta _love_ da food, ya know? It's a gift from da world, a gift from da lord, each one is precious, for it keep you alive. Each one is a ting of beauty."

Rose ogled the woman in perplexity. "I don't mean to be rude, but how are you so positive about every little thing? Throughout my life, all I've ever found is that the little things are just boring." Rose grimaced. "And anything bigger than a little thing involves suffering and isn't worth it. That's the choice: pain or boredom."

The older woman looked back at her, still stirring the pan. "Sound jus' like me when me arrived here. Fulla woe an' anger. Now I'll tell you summin'."

"What?"

"Tha jus' plain stupid."

"Stupid?" Rose was offended. "Sorry, I don't think that's stupid, it's a highly rational conclusion to come to. Surely you agree! You have suffered plenty yourself, you know how shit the world is."

Josie nodded. "Da world can be shit. Hey, people can be shit. But ya know what happened when I'd been here bout as long as yaself? I stumbled into da Buddhist temple by accident." She stopped, and tasted the mixture in the pan. "Mmm das good. Anyway, I wassa bout to leave an' dis monk fellow, wizened ol' ting, stopped me in ma tracks. 'im ask, what's wrong? Me say, all o' life is jus' misery, all people care about is demself, all me feel is de pain in me heart and body. An' 'im nodded, and said yes, dere is much suffering, and me heart is fulla compassion for you me child. But ya know what suffering is? 'im asked. Me say no. 'im say, suffering is what open de heart and make it grow stronger. An' ever since dat, me let de suffering in me heart open me up and let me grow stronger."

Rose looked away. "I wish it was as easy as that," she replied quietly.

"Easy? Who said anyting bout easy?" Josie laughed. "Gotta be jokin'. But it worth it in de end."

"I don't understand," Rose said, and her voice was more strangled, "I don't understand how I can make anything that's happened into something good."

"Time. Time an' lovin'. You gotta give yaself som' lovin'. An' ya gotta love dem enemies dat life has given ya. Tis de only way."

Rose shook her head. "I want to believe you, but I'm not sure it's remotely possible."

"Das okay. Mebbe one day. Jus' promise me ya'll com' see Josie erry time ya can, and we'll see wagwan."

Rose smiled cynically. "Well I've got nothing better to do. If you want my company, then I don't mind giving it."

"Das ma girl! Ooh, I tink dem done." The food was cooked, and Josie spooned it onto two plates. The returned to the threadbare chairs, and ate. "So what dya tink?"

"I can actually taste it," Rose admitted. "That's unusual for me."

Josie grinned, and straightened her glasses. "Das coz I cooked it fulla da lord's love."

Rose laughed. "Yeah sure, nothing to do with the quantity of spice."

"Certainly not! Jus' you wait, dere's hope for dis girl yet." Josie wiggled her eyebrows at Rose, and Rose couldn't help but burst out giggling. She felt more like a child than she'd ever done in her life, and it was lovely.

 **(gap)**

Months passed. Slowly, with each recollection of her past, the pain got dimmer. She never forgot L's eyes, burning with regret as they had parted for the last time. Every couple of days, Rose went to Josie's and helped her cook, ate with her, sat by the fire stroking the ginger tomcats and chatting. After two months, Rose had told her most of her life-story. She'd left out the precise details – the nature of her parent's crimes, her own precise involvement, and obviously the role of L was totally glossed over – but Josie had managed to coax more communication out of her than anyone had in her whole life. When she'd shared the most horrible stories, she'd shuddered and cried, and Josie had cuddled her gently as the tears flowed. Rose had been surprised how good she felt afterwards. _Who knew talking to other people could be so beneficial!_

Soon after that night she started learning how to speak Japanese properly. She also began training again. Every morning she'd walk down to one of the beaches and practise every martial art she could remember in the cold sea air. Once in a while a cat would stroll beneath her feet as she practised, and she'd stumble, cursing the nonchalant feline as it passed by without a care in the world

"Stupid puss!"

It was late March when it first happened. Josie and Rose had been cooking up jerk chicken with rice and peas. Rose's eyes widened, and she dropped her fork.

"Whatta matter girl?"

"Josie," she breathed, "I can taste it properly! I can actually taste it! It's amazing!"

Josie beamed from ear to ear. "See! Didn' me tell ya!"

"Oh, I never expected it to be this good!" Rose tore into the food like a wild animal, as Josie laughed at her gently.

By mid April, Rose spent more and more time exploring the small island, till every corner had been covered and analysed with intense scrutiny. A particular black and white tortoiseshell cat had taken to following her around, and scampered about her feet, chasing leaves and bugs as she wandered the woods beaches and villages. One night in late April, she returned from one of these walks to Josie's and was unusually quiet.

"Wagwan wit' you today? Ya seem a mile off."

Rose's eyes were wide and sorrowful as she gazed back at the woman she'd grown to love and depend on so much. _Will she mind at what I'm about to say?_ "Josie, I've been thinking. It's been seven months since I came here. Seven months. And I do nothing. And believe me, you really have taught me to enjoy the little things, but..."

She trailed off guiltily. "I'm bored. I can't help it." Rose wiggled her right hand with its ugly stumps, now pink and healed, jagged white scar-lines crisscrossing the top. "I feel I need to do something, you know?"

Josie nodded. She looked both sad and relieved at the same time. "Me knew dis time would com'."

"You did?"

"Course! You gotta firey-bright mind unda dat pretty face, no girl like you could stay in this dead-beat hole forever!"

Rose breathed a sigh of relief. "So you don't mind?"

"Course me don' mind." Josie took her hands, the whole and the stumpy one, in hers, and squeezed. "In fact me always bin hopin' you'd spread yo' wings and fly again."

A smile burst over Rose's face. "I will. I'm think ready to fly."

The next week, the beginning of May, Rose caught a boat to mainland Japan and took a train to Tokyo. Spring was blooming with fresh shoots and audacious flowers. Everywhere out of the windows, Rose saw cherry trees laden with delicate blossoms, pink and white, that scattered their petals to the winds, carpeting the floor.

When she landed in Tokyo, Rose booked a small apartment. She still had thousands of the money Wammy and L had given her, but she wouldn't need it much longer. The one extra request she'd made of Wammy before she'd left was to fake an education in police detection. Now she would finally use it.

Rose bought a laptop, a phone, stocked her new apartment with furniture and food. Unlike her one in Bristol, this had a separate bedroom to the open plan living room and kitchen. With a cup of tea, Rose curled up on the new purple sofa, and sent her job application form to the Japanese police.

 _Please review/fave/comment whatever, thanks for reading!_


	19. Chapter 19: Rose Gets a Real Job

_Thank you to those people who are kindly reviewing this story, it's really good to hear your thoughts =]_

 _I thought I should mention that this story IS NOT GOING TO FOLLOW CANON – whilst the Death Note will get involved and there's some elements that will echo the original, this story is set when Light has already joined the NPA. So sorry for that/you're welcome! I hope you enjoy it, it's a pretty long chapter to get everything going x_

Rose picked uncomfortably at her new blouse. She hadn't needed to wear 'professional' clothes since being Fen over eight months ago. _This is gonna be weird!_ She was in a mid-sized office in Tokyo, her first time in the new workplace.

"Welcome to the NPA, Emily Stanton-san. My name is Soichiro Yagame, as you probably know, I'm the chief."

"Thank you Yagame-sama." Rose looked at the chief. He was perhaps around 50 years of age, tall and broad, with a stubbly beard, greying dark hair, and tired, friendly eyes.

"So, you moved from England almost a year ago. I trust your Japanese is up to scratch?"

"Yes, I've been learning for several months."

"Good, you'll need a thorough grasp. I must say, your credentials are impressive. Here in Japan we respect the English police education, it bears much overlap with our own. Now obviously I won't be able to tend to you personally, but I'll put you in good hands." He made a quick phone call. "Aizawa-san? Yes, can you send Light and Touta-san through to my office?"

Shortly after two young men entered. Rose scanned them with interest. _Both quite attractive_. One had unusually brown hair for someone for Japan, perfectly sculpted around his face. He stood poker-straight and relaxed, with an air of total confidence and control. The other was slightly shorter with classic black hair, a little longer and messier, and a more distracted, bouncy way of holding himself.

"This is my son Light," Soichiro indicated the brown-haired man, "and his colleague Touta Matsuda-san. They only joined us in the last year and are similar in age to you, so I thought it would be appropriate for them to be your guides. You will be working with them, mostly, under myself or another senior member of the NPA. If you have any queries or problems, do see if you can resolve with them before coming to one of us."

"I understand. Nice to meet you Light-san, Touta-san. My name is Emily Stanton," Rose said politely. Light smiled calmly, Touta Matsuda grinned.

"Good to meet you Emily-san," Light replied.

"Yes, good to meet you!" Touta chimed in.

"Will you two show Stanton-san to her desk, and introduce her to the case you're currently working on?"

"Of course."

Rose followed them through to the main office-room.

"Here, you're next to me." Light pointed to an empty desk. His own desk was meticulously neat, with papers stacked up on the left hand side, pens organised neatly in a pot, and no personal touches to speak off. _Seems pretty OCD._

"Thank you." Rose laid her notepad and pens out in front of her computer. "So, what's the case?"

Touta Matsuda came over from his desk on the left hand side of Light, and peered over his shoulder as he brought some files up on his computer.

"A jewellery shop in the centre of town got robbed the night before last. About 3000 yen worth of stuff taken, before the shop-keeper was alerted by his security systems and came downstairs, but the robber scarpered," Touta informed her.

"So, what do we know already?" Rose tried to sound enthusiastic and confident, but she was feeling pretty uncomfortable. _It feels so weird, looking at crimes from the other side. God, what would they think of me if they knew?_

"He's got a bad CCTV system, the miser, he only turns it on for half an hour of every hour to save electricity bills. I bet he's kicking himself," Light said derisively. "So, the shop was last recorded as empty at 01:30 hours. The robber enters sometime between then and 02:00, because when the cameras come back on, there's evidence of breaking and entering and the owner's alerted. He comes downstairs at 02:08, and the robber runs off. Look, here's the stills."

Light scrolled through some static shots from the cameras, pausing on one where a dark figure was caught rushing towards the entrance. "So what do you see?"

"All black clothing, gloves, obscured face. About 5.8, stocky, almost certainly male. Not much to go on."

"Yes I agree."

"When are the forensics in?"

"Should be this afternoon I heard," Touta informed.

"Yes, that's right," Light confirmed. Though he looked younger, he seemed to interact with the darker haired man with authority. _Is that just coz he's the son of the chief? Weird, I've never worked with people in this way before, it shall be interesting getting to know the dynamics._ "Also, we've got footage of the vehicle he was using, a white Toyota, but the registration plate is fake."

Rose peered at the images. "Quite old, fairly battered. Could be theirs or stolen, of course. Any missing white Toyota's of that model?"

"Not that we've found so far. So there's a possibility it belongs to him, or someone involved in the crime."

"How many are registered in Tokyo?"

"Only 57, it's an old make, they're almost all obsolete these days." Rose noticed with amusement how Light would speak for both himself and Touta Matsuda almost every time, and Touta would nod in agreement. _Poor guy, why does he let Light take the limelight?_

"Good, that's not too many. Anyone suspicious connected to one of those vehicles?"

"We haven't had the chance to look yet, let's do it now."

Between the three of them, they narrowed down the list of suspicious owners from 57 to 11. "That's good progress! It might end up being stolen after all, but until then it's wise to work on this basis," Light decided. "Hey, shall we get a morning coffee?"

"Sure, why not."

"They serve coffee here of course, but it's rubbish." Light laughed an elegant laugh. "There's this place three doors down that is _much_ better."

Rose, flanked by her two new associates, left the department for the little cafe.

"So Emily-san, I heard you moved from England?" Touta asked good naturedly. "Why did you come here?"

"Oh, I just felt like a big change, you know? I didn't get on with the people I worked with to be honest, and thought a fresh start would be good. And I've always thought Japan would suit me." She gave them a winning smile. _Well, it's certainly true that I didn't 'get on' with The Group by the end..._

"Well I truly hope you'll have a better experience working with us." Light returned her winning smile with one equally as winning. _What a charmer. I bet he has women fawning over him wherever he goes._

"I hope so too, Light-san. I am looking forward to it."

They got their coffees, and walked back to the police station, chatting amiably. Light pondered his new colleague as they walked. His sharp eyes had not missed the space where her two fingers had been, nor her impeccable social etiquette that rivalled his own. _If I know anything about people who appear this perfect – and I should, because I appear this perfect – then she's wearing a mask, just like I do. What's underneath? Does she feel as useless and stagnated, bored and angry as I do? Or is it something else? Anyway, I intend to find out. I'm going to get to know you, Emily Stanton._

 **(gap)**

That afternoon the fingerprints didn't turn up a match, but a couple of dyed-blonde human hairs and a couple of grey dog hairs turned up as well, next to one of the broken glass fronts to a jewellery cabinet. The shop owner assured that the shelves had been cleaned very thoroughly that afternoon, so they were probably evidence rather than a random detail.

"Dyed blond?" Light raised his eyebrows. "That's got to make finding them a bit easier. A blond man with a grey dog."

"So, what items were stolen?" Rose asked, and Touta found the list. She memorised them quickly. "Thanks, Touta-san."

Swivelling her chair back round, she started searching for matches on as many sites as she could think of. There were no matches. _Hmm not surprising, if you were going to put them up on legal sites you'd wait longer than a day to do it. What about illegal ones though?_ Rose set up a tor browser on the computer and trawled several trading sites that she could remember. On about the fifth, a user came up selling precisely the items that had been stolen. _Hah, gotcha!_

She wasn't really sure if she was allowed to do what she was about to do, so she kept quiet while she began her hack on the user. Of course the dark-net was supposed to be highly encrypted and virtually impossible to trace to real people: and it was, for most. But Rose had an advantage – Isaac Goldberg had been one of the people to set UP this particular network of servers and the coding that made the browser work, so there were a few secrets up her sleeve.

An hour later, she had the precise location of the user. It was in Tokyo, about seven miles away. Cross referencing with the police database, she found a young man lived alone at that address. She flipped over onto LINE, the social media site most common in Japan. A blond man grinned dopily at her from the screen, a fat, aging grey dog at his feet. And sure enough, a little look into his family history revealed the white Toyota belonged to his cousin. _Bingo_.

"Hey Light-san, I think I've found our man," Rose said casually.

He turned and raised his perfect eyebrows quizzically. "Let me take a look."

"What's that, you think you've got something?" Touta rushed over, and both men stared at the blonde-haired man with his lazy grin and ugly grey dog.

"Yes so he's blonde and got a grey dog, that doesn't mean he's automatically our suspect," Light pointed out. _Patronisingly_ , Rose thought.

"Obviously. But firstly, his cousin owns one of those Toyota's. Thirdly, he only like seven miles from here, two miles from the jewellery shop. But most importantly, I found a user on a dark-net trading site selling the stolen items, and traced it back to him." Rose brought up the website for them to examine.

Touta's jaw dropped. "Oh my god Emily-san, you're totally right! Every single one of them is there!"

Light looked at the screen in disbelief. _How the hell did she do that?_ "Emily-san, I thought the dark-net is supposed to encrypt all its information to the highest level?"

"It does," Rose admitted. "But I had some VERY good teachers back in England."

Light shook his head slowly, and scrolled through the rows of code she'd entered. He didn't know if he felt pleased to have her on the team, or pissed off at her for virtually solving it all so much quicker than he'd have done. But he had to admit, it was impressive.

"I'm impressed. Though, you know, I'm not sure we're strictly allowed to _do_ this kind of hacking work without permission."

"Not allowed?" Rose was surprised. Perhaps her lack of real police education was going to be a problem after all. _There's gonna be so many rules I don't know about!_ "Well, I just assumed the rules would be the same as in England, you know?" Rose bluffed, hoping they'd know nothing of the British police.

"Don't worry, I don't mind." Light flashed her a devilish grin. "Whatever it takes to bring justice to the world. It's all that matters to me."

 _Just like L._ Rose's heart, buoyed with pride moments before, clouded over with memory at Light's words. _Where is he now?_

They took the findings to Chief Yagame when they got a file in order. His eyes widened as they entered the office.

"You three already? What's the problem?"

"No problem Dad," Light beamed. "We've solved it!"

Chief Yagame didn't believe them at first, but when the evidence was laid out he couldn't doubt it. He beamed with pride at first his son, then Touta, then Rose.

"Well it seems you three make quite the team. Stanton-san, I'm thoroughly impressed. Once you've written this up, you can all go home."

They returned to their desks and Light groaned. "Here's the best bit."

"What do you mean?"

Lights eyebrows wiggled cynically. "The 'writing up'. Tell me, do they have as much pointless bureaucracy in England as they do here? We literally drown in paperwork."

"Oh yeah, of course," Rose lied. "Mountains of it." _Paperwork? What did that entail?_

She soon found it entailed boredom – lots of boredom. An hour later, a million boxes ticked, crossed and written in, it was finally done. _Fuck this. How unnecessary. How does any self-respecting legal detective put up with this bullshit? I almost wish I was back in the underworld..._

Finally they were finished, and Rose pushed back her chair in relief just as Light finished his.

"Freedom! Hey, where do you live? I can drive you home if you like," Light offered.

Rose smiled. "Thank you, but I only live just round the corner, it would be unnecessary."

"Sure. Then I'll see you tomorrow."

Light got into his car, and sat there for a moment without turning on the ignition. His curiosity was riled. _First those missing fingers... and that impeccable social mask... then ridiculous hacking skills, and an ability to solve cases faster than ME?_ He shook his head. _Something's just not right here_. But he couldn't tell if he just felt that way because his pride had been wounded. He knew one thing for sure, and that was that he couldn't afford to drift through work lazily anymore if he wanted to succeed his father one day. It was not going to be so easy to stay on top: now he had competition, and he was certainly going to rise to it.

 **(gap)**

"Cheers, everyone!" Soichiro Yagame said, raising his sake in the air. "Anyone need a fill up?"

"Yes please, Dad."

"Here's to the youngest pair of people in the NPA ever to be promoted from junior detectives to full detectives! At just 25, both of you. I am very proud."

Soichiro beamed at them, and topped up their glasses. It was only five months after Rose had joined the NPA, and her and Light had been solving cases all summer at a rate the police force had never seen before. Apart they were good, but together they were almost unbeatable. Now, as autumn rolled in, she had been invited round to the Yagame's for a celebratory dinner.

"So Emily-san, are you glad you came to Japan?" It was Sayu Yagame that asked, Light's younger sister, a pretty girl with a round, innocent face. She must've been university age, but seemed a lot younger to Rose. _By that age I had already lived on my own for a year. Weird._

"I am." Rose smiled at the younger woman. "I honestly feel like I fit in much better here than England."

"That's great! So, have you found a boyfriend?"

"Sayu, don't just ask such personal questions of a stranger," chided the mother, Sachiko Yagame.

"No it's fine, I really don't mind." She turned to Sayu. "To be honest Sayu-san, I've been far too wrapped up in my police work to meet anyone outside of the NPA."

"Oh so does that mean your boyfriend's IN the NPA?" Sayu wiggled her eyes suggestively at her brother.

"Sayu stop it, me and Emily-kun are work colleagues and good friends," he reprimanded coolly. "Anyway, you know us better than that. Me and Emily-kun both think that relationships are just a waste of time."

Rose nodded in agreement, this was all true. She and Light had become good friends over the last few months. They annoyed each other – she couldn't stand the way Light naturally assumed his superiority to everyone around him, and he couldn't stand how little she'd open up to him and let him analyse her – but they worked together like a dream, sparking ideas off each other constantly. Eventually their ease at working together cemented into a solid – albeit detached – friendship. They were both highly observant, and so it was obvious to each that the other kept a part of themselves deeply reserved. But it was an unspoken rule between them never to mention it.

Eventually the pleasant meal came to an end, and after giving himself a little time to sober up, Light drove Rose back to her apartment on the way to his own. He pulled up outside the block. Some sake was still in his system, and he didn't really feel like going to bed.

"Hey can I come in and chill for a bit? Not really tired."

"Sure." It was nothing out of the ordinary, they often hung out in the evenings to chat over a case or just watch something together.

Rose brought them both a drink, and they sat on the purple sofa in her kitchen-living room with the TV playing music quietly in the background.

"Your mother and sister were nice. Typical Light-kun, you even have a perfect family," she teased.

"Yeah I know, it's a blessing." _It's not fair,_ he thought. _You know so much about me, Emily._ _What would happen if I just asked her?_

"Look," he began carefully. "I've been thinking, all this time I've known you."

"Go on."

"I didn't want to bring it up before because we didn't know each other well, but we're partners now and I think we trust each other."

"What is it?"

"You know your missing fingers?"

Rose sighed inwardly. _Here he goes. I've been seeing this question burning in him for months, he's too clever to not question it._

"Well, I know you told me that it was an accident with an axe when you went camping as a teenager, but I honestly don't believe you. It's just intuition, but I really don't. What really happened?"

 _Gotta pick round this one carefully_. "You're right," Rose admitted. "I lied. It was not something I wanted to share with a stranger."

 _Finally!_ Light thought. "So what really happened?"

"When I was working as a detective in England, I was captured and tortured by a powerful crime syndicate. The fingers and this," Rose edged up the short sleeve of her top to reveal the scar over her shoulder, "are the marks that remain." _Perfect. Not a word was a lie._

Lights eyes widened. "I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"It's okay."

"So was that the real reason you came to Japan?"

Rose smiled at his quick reasoning. "That's right. They got me out just in time, but thought it best for my own safety if I left the country."

"Wow. That's heavy. It seems like nothing that crazy will ever happen to me." Light sighed, and stood up to stare out of the window at the lights of Tokyo. Rose had never seen this expression on his face before, dark and brooding. _Has my honesty let him take off the mask?_

"Before you came," Light said, gazing moodily out at the city, "I was horribly bored. Do you know how shit it is to have no one of your own intelligence around?"

"I do," Rose assured.

"I was pretty depressed, to be honest. All I could see around me was the pathetic, twisted wrongness of the world, and it pressed me down. And for a few months, working with you, getting so much done, I've felt a bit of purpose for a while. But lately it's been coming back."

He turned to her, his perfectly sculpted face drawn and tired. "I just always thought I could be more than this. I feel like I could have had some grand purpose, some ultimate destiny, like a superhero. But what am I? I'm just a police detective that solves some clues and does paperwork. Maybe one day you and I will run the NPA, whoop de do. But what's even the point? We can never do enough to rid the world of evil." He gulped some of his drink bitterly. "I just feel so insignificant."

"I understand," Rose agreed quietly. "But there's only so much one person can do."

"Yeah but it's got to be more than this!" Light returned his gaze to the cityscape, and was silent for a moment. The night was peaceful."Have you ever heard of L?"

Time seemed to stop for a moment. Rose's heart thudded, but she kept her breathing even. _Did he just say what I think he did?_ "Sorry, who?" She asked mildly.

"You might have heard my father mention him. He's the best detective in the world. Sometimes, when he thinks a case is important enough and the police are struggling, he'll take it on. He never fails to solve them."

"But who is he?" Rose managed to ask. She was very glad Light was still staring out of the window, or he'd have seen the unnatural brightness of her eyes, the tenseness in her shoulders.

"Nobody knows, it's a complete mystery." Light sighed. "Now living like THAT might be worth it. Hell you'd be so powerful you certainly wouldn't have to fill in any forms! You could just flick your finger and the police would do your bidding. And all to bring about ultimate justice in the world. _That's_ what I want to be doing."

 _Oh god this is too weird_. _Gotta act natural._ "Yeah I reckon that role would suit you. Sounds pretty stressful though," Rose joked.

"Stress? What is stress compared to boredom?" Light laughed. "I'd trade any day."

*** _There you go! You're introduced to the next narrative arc = ] Please follow/favourite/review if you're enjoying it. I won't update tomorrow, because I need a bit of time to figure out exactly how to map out this next bit of the story. Expect one the day after! Thank you very much for taking the time of day to read my words = ] peace x_

 _Also, I apologise for two chapters in a row with no L – he'll be back next time!_


	20. Chapter 20: Death Gods and Death

_Okay so I've had a couple of days to mull over where the story's going, and got some creases ironed out =] Here's the next instalment – some bits mirror the original story, most bits are gonna be very different... Hope you enjoy!_

Light left Emily's apartment around midnight, and ambled down the steps to his car. The pavement directly next to the passenger seat door was out of reach of the beams of nearby streetlamps, so he didn't seen the thin obstacle that made him nearly trip. He squinted downwards in annoyance, and saw its vague outline.

 _A notebook? Emily probably dropped it getting out the car earlier. I'll give it to her in the morning._ Chucking it onto the seat next to him, Light pulled away and headed home. His apartment was of a similar design to Emily's, but with a few less things in it, designed in muted blues and greys: to Lights eyes the colour scheme was sophisticated, manly, tasteful, mature. As he always did when he returned home, Light flopped onto the neatly made bed on his back, and contemplated the ceiling for a few moments.

"So you're a senior detective now," he said to himself. "Well done." But it still felt hollow. Realising the notebook was still in his hands, he looked at it. _This isn't Emily's!_ He realised with surprise, and chuckled at the idea of Emily owning anything that looked so childishly gothic. The mottled black cover was bare except for the words: 'Death Note' in English embossed at the top. Greatly to the offence of Light's love of correctness, all the letters were capitals except for the two T's. _Who the hell thought that looked aesthetic?_

He opened it, and found that it was empty except for a list of bizarre rules at the front, also in English.

"The human whose name is written in this note shall die," Light read out, and proceeded to read the rest. _Picture their face... cause of death must be written 40 seconds after name... heart attacks if no cause written... details of death in six minutes..._ "How childish," Light scoffed.

Still, it caught his imagination. _Imagine what you could do with such a power! Who would I kill?_ _Some of those soulless bastards I have to endlessly try and imprison. Now THAT would send the world a message, THAT would be a worthwhile job_.

He chuckled at the fancy, and went to the bathroom to relieve his bladder and brush his teeth. The fantasy refused to leave his mind though, and as he brushed he stared at himself in the mirror and pondered the idea of the dreadful people he'd helped to lock up finally getting what they deserve. _Especially that guy a couple of days ago._ Light's brow furrowed and his heart hardened at the memory of Ryota Nakamura. Nakamura was a serial child molester and murderer, who had groomed, used and killed over ten little boys and girls before they'd caught him. Light could see his face now. _There was no shame in his evil piggy little eyes, he was proud! If anyone deserves to die, it's him_.

Still fuming at the memory, Light returned to his bed and climbed in. Just for fun, just because he was so full of the thought, he doodled Ryota Nakamura's name on the first page of the notebook, before turning out the lamp and falling quickly to sleep.

 **(gap)**

Rose yawned. She'd got up super early than morning and fitted in two hours of training, so it already felt quite late at midday. _Dammit, can't concentrate at all. I need waking up._ When she brought a coffee back, Rose scrolled through the news idly at her desk, waiting for the caffeine to kick in before she continued working. A minor headline caught her eye.

"Hey Light-kun, you know that case one of the other teams solved last week, the one we helped with a little bit, the Nakamura case?"

"What about it?"

"Well apparently the guy's dead. They hadn't even reported his imprisonment yet – they just reported his imprisonment and subsequent death today, all at once. Weird, it's like some kinda cosmic karma!"

Light froze. _Spooky_. "So how did he die?"

"Apparently just dropped dead of a heart attack last night. Strange, huh?"

 _Okay now that's too weird, an actual heart attack? It's just like the notebook said. Keep calm, keep calm._ "Yeah, pretty strange."

All day Light's mind could not rest. What if it were true? What if HE'D killed that man? Light felt a strange mixture of emotions: a little fear, a little excitement, doubt, pleasure, confusion. He forced himself through the day.

"That's us done then," Rose said, powering down her computer. "Hey do you wanna come over and watch a film or something tonight?"

"Urh, no actually, not tonight. I'm just really tired, think I slept badly last night," he excused. _I need to find out of the notebook is real._

"Sure, see you tomorrow then." Rose didn't really care if he was lying or not, and she suspected he probably was. She simply understood more than most that, sometimes, people just need to be alone.

Light put some oden on the stove to heat up, and picked up the notebook. _This can't possibly be real. Notebooks that kill people don't exist. But on the off chance it's for real, I've got to be careful. If I test it, it can't be anyone that could be traced in any way back to me._

"There I've found you! So what you gonna do with it?"

Light whipped around in shock at the growly voice. What he saw made him drop the notebook and clutch desperately at the kitchen worktop.

"W-what the hell?" _Am I hallucinating?_ An abnormally tall figure stood – no _floated_ – in the kitchen. He, or it, had huge otherworldly eyes, and a ghastly joker's smile. Its head looked like it was sewn onto the skinny body clothed in black, with a stupid sort of skirt or kilt around its waist and long black tendrils emanating from its shoulders. Light blinked. _I couldn't possibly be making this up. No demon I'd invent would dress so stupid._

"What never seen a shinigami before?" The demon cackled, its voice unnaturally deep.

"Shinigami? A god of death?" Light scrunched his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them, it was still there.

"My name's Ryuk, you picked up my Death Note. Ya used it yet, Light?"

Light didn't bother asking how he knew his name. "YOUR Death Note?"

"Yeah that's right."

 _Fuck. Is he going to eat my soul or something?_ "Here, take it away! Have it back if you want!" Light thrust the notebook towards him. Ryuk cackled.

"Nah, it's yours now. Until you give it up or die, whichever comes first."

"And you're really real?"

"As real as you are."

"And the Death Note, it's for real?"

"You betcha."

Light's food started bubbling over furiously, and he yanked off the stove, as the demon laughed mockingly at his frenzied manner. Light forcibly calmed himself. _Okay, so there's apparently a demon called Ryuk in my kitchen, and an untrackable murder weapon in my hand. So what? I'm Light Yagame. I can handle this_. "Okay Ryuk, you have some serious explaining to do."

Ryuk perched himself in the air in what he clearly thought was a more comfortable position, though how floating in one position could feel any different to another was beyond Light. "Sure. Ask me anything. Fire ahead. I might answer, I might not, depending on how I feel."

Light thought for a moment, and posed his questions.

 **(gap)**

L played with his lip thoughtfully, brow furrowed, stirring a bowl of tiramisu with a long-handled silver spoon. He'd never read something so odd.

"Wammy, have you read this?"

Wammy, sitting comfortably in one of the wing-backed armchairs off to L's right, glanced up from his paper. "Read what?"

"For the last nine days, tens of criminals a day have been dying in their cells. All of them heart attacks."

"How odd."

"I can't believe this is coincidence. There's simply too many of them." L's frown deepened. "But if it's orchestrated, then I don't understand how it's being done. How would even a very large organisation get access to prisons all round the world?"

"I have no idea."

"I'm going to need you to go to the Interpol emergency meeting about it in a few days time. I'm taking the case on."

"Sure." Wammy yawned. "If you don't mind, I'm going to get an early night. I'm knackered, I've got no energy left."

"Okay, sleep well. See you tomorrow."

L began looking deeper into the mysterious deaths. All were high-profile criminals. _Come on, give me a clue_. He found that the first had been a serial molester and murderer, a Japanese man called Nakamura. _Hmm, do we have anything to suggest that Japan is central to this?_ A little more searching revealed that all the dead criminals had been announced on Japanese TV. The same didn't seem to be true of anywhere else. _Looks like we'll be going to Japan_.

Wandering into his bedroom he pulled a few white t-shirts, pairs of underwear and jeans out of his wardrobe and dumped them unceremoniously crumpled into a suitcase. L dropped a toothbrush onto the pile and shut it. _That'll do._ The only other thing he would need was the equipment, and he and Wammy could do that tomorrow.

As there was nothing really to work on, L lay down on his bed, curled into a ball on his side. He wished he could fall asleep till morning. It wasn't deliberate for him to only sleep for one sleep cycle a day – he'd have slept more if he could. The problem was as soon as he closed his eyes, without the usually visual stimulation to distract him, his brain were whir into overdrive. Thoughts, images, snatches of conversation, formulas, lists, reasons, questions, possibilities, memories, plans... In the silent darkness it all became a cacophony to loud to bear, like a growing white noise that eventually reached such a crescendo that he'd have to jump up and do something just to shut it up. So L didn't try and close his eyes and sleep. He rolled around, eyes open, thinking. Sometimes, if he pretended to himself that he wasn't resting but instead was just working lying down, his manic mind would fall asleep by accident.

Luckily this happened tonight, and L slept for twenty minutes longer than usual. As the curtain of oblivion started pulling back, he groaned. _No no no_. _Just let me rest._ But it was impossible, of course. L's brain buzzed into life and dragged his unwillingly body up with it. The thought of strawberries made the whole situation seem a much more bearable.

L ambled outside. It was almost winter again, but L was pretty sure his feet were made of stone for all the cold he felt from the wet lawn. _Maybe I'm entirely made of stone_. That was kind of what it had felt like lately. He trained for a while under some beech trees in the estate gardens, just as the morning light started illuminating everything. The exercise pumping blood around his body finally made him feel awake, and he re-entered the house feeling a lot better.

L made some tea from the kettle on his desk, dropping a few sugar cubes in with relish, and patiently waited for Wammy to bring up proper breakfast.

And he waited. And he waited.

By nine o'clock, Wammy still hadn't arrived. _What's going on? He's an awfully punctual gentlemen, he arrives at 7.30am every morning with cake._

L picked up his phone and rang Wammy. There was no answer. _Strange_. He got up and trod around the carpeted corridors as quietly as a ghost. As it were just past nine, most of the kids were in tutoring and the house was quiet.

Wammy wasn't in the kitchen, nor the library. His black Rolls Royce was still parked on the driveway. A prickly, unnerving feeling started settling on the back of L's neck. As if from impossibly far away, he could hear faint, mournful bells ringing, and bit his thumb.

Ghosting back up the stairs, L moved towards Wammy's part of the house. It was not somewhere he often went, as Wammy would come to him every morning if they were at home before he went to coach some kids.

No answer. He pushed it open. Wammy's living room was still dark, but he could make out the oak-panelled gentleman's lounge that pretty much mirrored his own. The curtains had not yet been opened. _That's VERY unusual – he did say he was tired, perhaps he simply overslept._ L knocked on the closed bedroom door.

"Wammy?"

No answer. L turned the handle gingerly, and entered. It was still dark in here too, and very vaguely L could make out the horizontal shape of the old man in his large bed. But something seemed wrong. The air in the room seemed unnaturally still and clammy somehow. The low bells would not stop ringing in L's mind, and he apprehensively flicked on the light.

Wammy lay on his back beneath the duvet, eyes shut, jaw slack, skin the colour of a grey sky.

"Aaach," L choked, and sank to the floor. His guardian, his assistant, his best and only friend, was gone. Wammy was dead.

 _Aww sorry I keep making L's life hell! Haha things will look up for him eventually. Please review to tell me your thoughts, fave/follow if you wanna see more = ]i hope you all have a lovely evening x_


	21. Chapter 21: The Successors

_Okay so this is the Mello and Near chapter! Praying it works, it's always hard working out how to write characters for the first time..._

 _I finished university today! Woooop, getting mightily drunk with friends, but remembered it's about time to post this chapter, so here you go = ] have splendid days x_

"L."

L looked up from the water. He'd been standing on the little bridge that crossed the tinkling stream near the bottom of the Wammy Estate for what felt like years. He saw Roger approach, the man who managed Wammy House for Wammy, his face haggard with sorrow behind his round glasses.

"So was he killed? Did you find anything? What happened?"

Roger shook his head. "We found nothing, it doesn't look like he was killed."

L brooded silently.

Roger shrugged, sadly, as if L's silence had constituted a reply. "He was old, L. He just passed away gently in his sleep. It'll happen to all of us if we live long enough to see it."

L nodded. He knew this of course. He understood with perfect lucidity that everyone would die. But knowing this logically was entirely different to actually _witnessing_ it. Especially Wammy. _There's something about parental figures,_ L mused. _Why do we always act as if they're immortal, why do we live life assuming they'll always be there to pick us up when we fall?_

"So when's the funeral?"

"Two days time."

"Good. Because the day after that, I need you to do me a favour."

"What's that?"

"I need you to pretend to be Wammy, and go to the Interpol meeting about a case they're calling 'Kira'."

Roger raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you going to rest a while? You can pick up the case later, surely."

"What would be the point in that?" L genuinely couldn't see it. "I am going to miss him more than anyone else in the world, but that doesn't give me a reason to sit about doing nothing, wallowing in emotion. That would drive me mad. Anyway, whilst sitting about being self-absorbed in my own negative feelings, criminals around the world would continue to wreak havoc. No. I need to carry on. The world needs to me carry on. Wammy would expect no less of me."

L meant every word that he said. He'd carefully taken his grief, labelled it 'Grief For Wammy', and stored it in a perfectly sealed container somewhere deep inside him. It was lined up next to a few others containers he'd not got round to reopening yet. If circumstances every allowed, he could come back to it and open it up, but now wasn't that time.

Roger looked at the young man, his eyes more sunken and shadowed than usual, the grim determination of his jaw. He knew nothing he could say would change L's mind – it had never done before. Wammy had been the only one who could ever influence L's decisions.

"Are you going to want me to take over his duties permanently?"

"Not if I can help it. I think it's important for the kids to have SOME kind of continuity in their support, don't you think? With Wammy gone, they'll need you more than ever."

"Then what are you going to do? You can't do it alone."

"No," L admitted reluctantly. "I need someone to go to the police, take people to interrogation, handle technical issues, discuss problems with me, and a million other things." He sighed. "Wammy did so much." He turned to Roger questioningly. "What of my successors? Would any be capable of joining me?"

"I don't think I could answer that question. You'd have to find out yourself."

L nodded. "Who's at the top?"

"Two boys are neck and neck. Mello and Near."

"How old are they now?"

"18 and 17 respectively. They're some of the oldest ones."

 _...Left_ , L thought grimly. _You mean they're some of the oldest ones that aren't dead, mad, or in prison._ "Yes, I remember them. I haven't seen them in a few years. I'm going to have to speak to them."

"Sure. Would you like me to send them up to your apartment later?"

Thank you Roger, that would be perfect."

A few hours passed, and L heard the knock on his door. "Come in."

He stood up awkwardly, trying to straighten his hunched shoulders, and watched the two teenagers approach. He felt naked in front of their curious eyes. _What do they think of me? Do they resent me like A and B did?_

The three stood there for a while, hungrily analysing each other. L saw that both had grown up considerably since he'd last seen them. Mello's previously skinny arms were now undulating with sculpted muscles, and his ginger-blonde hair had grown past his shoulders. The girlish fringe remained, though. Near's white hair was now shorter, and his face had lost some of the childish roundness. His grey eyes were still child's eyes though, babies eyes, disconcertingly wide, that stared at you from the wordless depths of the universe as only babies could do.

As the silence dragged on, L realised he should probably initiate something.

"Urr, would anyone like some cake?" L offered.

"Got any chocolate?" Asked the older boy, Mello.

"I've got chocolate sauce that you could put on the cake."

"That'll do." Mello flashed a grin.

"Near?"

"No, thank you." The younger boy's voice was still incredibly soft, but several tones deeper than before.

"Please, take a seat." L fetched the cake from his desk, watching the boys out of the corner of his eye. There were of course two armchairs and one sofa. One armchair, occupied my L's laptop, was clearly not for taking. He watched as Mello bee-lined toward the other armchair, only to be beaten to it by Near swinging himself over the arm and into the seat just as Mello turned to sit down. Mello growled at him angrily and resigned himself to the sofa, at which the white-chaired cherub-teen smirked. _So they have THAT sort of relationship, do they?_

"Cake." L said unnecessarily, plonking a plate bearing a generous slice of coffee and walnut dripping in chocolate sauce onto the low table between the chairs. It felt weird dishing out sweet things. _This is Wammy's role._

"So I assume you can work out why you're here."

"Wammy's dead, you need a replacement," Mello mumbled through his mouthful of pudding.

"That is correct. So let's talk through a few things."

 **(gap)**

L knocked his head gently on the apartment door he'd just swung shut. _That went terribly_.

Actually, the first stage had gone well. Having posed to them several hypothetical scenarios and asked what they would have done or been able to deduce, he could not deny that both teens were impressively clever. They even thought of one or two possibilities that he hadn't anticipated. But it wasn't their intelligence that had been the problem, it was their _characters_.

 _I should've known_ , he thought. _Obviously anyone being trained to be me is likely to be as emotionally and socially stunted as I am. Should've seen that coming._

Admittedly, Mello's emotional and social problems greatly differed from his own. It had been about twenty minutes into their conversation when his jaw first set, and his eyes flashed.

"So let me get this straight. We've been trained all our lives to take over if you die, if we're good enough. And Near and I ARE good enough, I know it. And now you say, 'oh actually, I need you to come with me now and be my technical support, my errand runner, my second in command'?"

"I suppose, that is strictly true," L said mildly. He had of course been planning to operate on a more even basis with the 'new Wammy', but this reaction of Mello's clearly needed testing.

Mello's face darkened, and he stood up, his lithe body tensed in anger. "Well then all I can really say is fuck you! We never see you, we're made to feel like if we're good enough then WE will be the next greatest detective in the world, and then you think you can just swoop back in and ask us to be your bitch?"

"You can be whoever's bitch you want you," L provoked calmly.

"Oh jesus, why do you just sit there and answer things quietly and calmly as if everything's below you? You're just like Near." Mello gave daggers to the other boy. "Hell I'm not even sure why I used to look up to you so much, L. You're kind of pathetic, you know that? Can't even work on your own," he sneered, "you can't survive without Wammy waiting on you all day! Fuck this. Count me out. When I start proper detective work, it's going to be on my own terms, not yours." Mello strode towards the door. It slammed shut behind him.

 _So one possibility had been crossed off the list._

"Sorry about him. I think he may possess an unusually large share of testosterone," Near commented quietly, playing with a pair of dice in his hand. "It obscures his judgment, I think that he probably didn't notice you were testing his reactions."

L raised his eyebrows. "Very good. And what about you, what do you think of the whole situation?"

Near sat quietly for a minute, and started pulling dice out of his pocket, and balancing one on top of the other on the coffee table between sofa and armchair. It made L feel a little queasy, as if watching himself. _If they'd just been sugar cubes..._

"I think..." he said slowly, "that whilst my temperament would suit you better, I am ill equipped to do what you ask of me."

"Oh?"

"Watari needs to go to police stations, he needs to interact with people, he needs to be able to buy things and book things and organise things in a normal and natural way." Those orb-like baby eyes looked up at him from the dice pile that was now mesmerizingly tall. "Whilst I could help you in your investigations, I can't do any of these things. I can't even bear to go out in public on my own, and sounding normal is as hard for me as is it for you." Near laughed – the sound was gentle and melodic. He clearly didn't resent himself his failings, it was just the way things were.

L nodded. "I understand. If that is truly the case, and I do not doubt your ability to self-analyse, then you cannot help me."

The white-haired boy stared up at the ceiling, twirling a strand of the silvery locks between his fingers thoughtfully. "Don't you think it's funny that we train people to be L here, but no one is trained to be Watari?"

"It's an excellent point. Perhaps you should bring it up with Roger."

"Perhaps I will." Near smiled, and one by one took each dice off the tower and put in his pocket. "Well then, I'll be going now. I'm sorry you couldn't find what you're looking for."

"That's okay. Thank you for your time."

As the teen shuffled off, L couldn't resist asking him the question burning in his mind.

"Near, do all the kids hate and resent me as much as Mello does?"

Near laughed that melodic laugh once more. "Mello doesn't hate you, you're his idol. Just like he doesn't really hate me – I'm sort of his best friend, actually, after Matt. And the kids... they don't hate you. But they do resent you. You know they'd definitely resent you less if you went and visited them a bit more. Most of them haven't even met you these days."

"Hmm, that's probably true, but I can't do that. The more I interact with people, the more they are in danger. Besides, I'm going away to Japan in a couple of days. It may be a long case."

"Of course. Well, see you."

"Bye, Near."

 _And so the second possibility had been crossed off the list._ L hadn't entirely expected asking his successors to join him to work, but he'd done it out of necessity. Truth was, there wasn't really anyone else he COULD ask. He needed someone he could trust with his life, someone with impeccable social skills, impressive organisational and technical skills, and a willingness to be around him every day. _Virtually impossible._ _What a nightmare_. He added a few logs to the fire, and crouched in front of it, allowing himself to be hypnotised by the flames for a few minutes. Flames were marvellous. _Carbon dioxide, water vapour, nitrogen and oxygen, emitting energy as heat and light in the chemical process of combustion. And yet it looks so otherworldly, as if the tree spirits are being released from their wooden confinement._

It was almost half an hour before he stood up, and began going over the evidence for the Kira case. There was something about the whole case that made his hair stand on end. Updates online confirmed that more had died that day, in the same mysterious manner.

It was then that L noticed it. The date that didn't fit. It was like the cocaine-banana-boat all over again. The very first death, Ryota Nakamura, had happened at around 1am _the night before_ his conviction had been reported! _This can only mean that Kira has access to police records. He might even BE in the NPA. Why would he mess up his very first killing? Perhaps he did something that he didn't expect to work_.

L brought up a document profiling everyone that worked at the NPA – there were 141. Even if it turned out to be a hack or a leak to an external Kira, it wouldn't harm to look. He may as well start remembering names and faces if one of them was going to turn out to be his suspect. Scrolling through it slowly, L's photographic mind stored an image of each profile for future reference. _46, 47 48..._ 49.

L yelped, and fell out of his chair. Righting himself, he blinked in amazement at the screen. Number 49 stared coolly down at him, with a half-smile curving across her face.

It was Rose.

 _What dya reckon, did I do the characters justice? Obviously they had to be a bit one-sided since they're only here for one chapter, can't do that much character development in that space... maybe they'll come back in a later chapter if it works._

 _Please review to tell me you thoughts = ] thanks for reading, peace x_


	22. Chapter 22: Reuniting

_Here's the next instalment. Thanks to anyone who's given me feedback, especially to –aura and WildfireDreams for your continued support, it means a lot :D Rose and L finally meet again, so here goes..._

Rose gulped her coffee perched on the edge of a table, swinging her legs. It was early afternoon, and the whole NPA had been brought into the biggest meeting room in the department. It was a long white conference room, with tall windows down one side revealing a dull grey sky, and lots of circular desks. Round each table clustered a police division, chattering with their colleagues, waiting for the meeting to begin. Light sat on a seat next to Rose, twirling a pen around his thumb with boredom.

Eventually Chief Soichiro Yagame entered the room, looking pretty exhausted. He went to the end of the room, and tapped the little microphone on the podium to check it was working.

"Hello? Yes, there we go, hello everyone. Sorry I'm late, the plane was delayed. As you all know, I've been at the emergency Interpol meeting about the Kira case. I've got some important news for you all, so listen carefully." Chief Yagame sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. "L had taken over the investigation-"

Rose choked on her coffee and inhaled some of it accidentally at the name, resulting in an uncontrollable coughing fit. Light hit her on the back grinning with amusement. "It's s'posed to go in your stomach not your lungs Emily-kun!"

"- and what's more, he needs the full cooperation of the Japanese Police. You see, L believes Kira is in Japan."

There were shocked murmurs around the conference room. _Well this just got interesting_ , Rose and Light both thought to themselves, though for very different reasons. The meeting went on for some time, but neither could concentrate much after that.

 _Must ensure I'm in the division to work on the Kira case, I have to keep track of what's going on,_ Light decided.

 _Do I care if he finds me? If I do, I should ensure I'm not in the division to work on the Kira case. Do I really care anymore? I don't know,_ Rose mused. _Shit, but if he finds out I'm working for the police in Japan, might he suspect me of being Kira? That could be problematic._

She tuned back into the meeting. A policeman she didn't know had come forward with the day's report on what criminals had died. It was another long list.

"...Haru Mori of Japan, Eddie Burns of Scotland, Pierre Fortin of Canada, Oskar Pollari of Finland, Isaac Goldberg of England..."

Rose managed to stop herself choking on her coffee this time, but she couldn't stop herself clutching the table with white knuckles. _Isaac. No, that's not fair_. Her brow furrowed. Before she'd been pretty bemused by the Kira case, but hadn't felt that compelled to figure it out. Now though, Kira had murdered the only person that had ever truly loved her. Her heart hardened with anger. _You've made a serious enemy, Kira. I don't care whether L sees me or not now, I'm going to work on this case and hunt you down._

Light noticed Emily's odd reaction. "Hey, what's up?" He whispered.

"Just, one of those people was someone I helped to bring to justice," she lied. "It's always a bit weird when it's a criminal you know."

"Aah I see. Yeah pretty weird!"

Eventually the meeting ended and Rose walked home in the winter cold, her mind buzzing. _Who are you Kira? How do you do this?_ The trees lining her street were skeletal and the grey, the road empty. She remembered Nakamura. _You weren't reported before your death. Now THAT is very worrying._ Rose hadn't felt fear in over a year, but that thought sent fear shivering down her spine. Because she herself had overhauled the police's security months ago – if it were a hacker, she'd have known. _That means an informant or a member of the NPA themselves. This is far too close for comfort._

Once in the apartment Rose switched on the TV and flopped horizontally onto the sofa. Not particularly to watch anything, just so that the comforting noise of it would distract her from the creeping fear invading her mind. The hum of the soap opera was indeed soothing. Someone was having a domestic, and there were lots of overly-dramatic tears.

"Breaking News!" Rose turned her head in curiosity.

"This is a worldwide broadcast, and I am speaking to YOU Kira." A tall blonde man sat at a desk looking seriously into the camera. _What the hell?_ "My name is Leo 'L' Jones, otherwise known as 'L'. It is my intention to personally stop you Kira. You are the worst kind of evil, and I WILL bring you down."

"Whaat, that's not L!" Rose shouted to the air, and fell onto the floor on her knees to peer at the screen more closely. Without warning, the blonde man gasped and collapsed. There was a tense few seconds, whilst a cameraman dragged him off the screen. _What's going on?_

The screen blanked, and a gothic letter L appeared. And then it happened, emanating from her TV speakers came the sound of that distorted filtered voice. It made her stomach sort of turn upside down.

"I'm impressed Kira. I had to test it, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't just witnessed it. It seems you can kill without having to be there in person. That's a very useful clue. You'll be relieved to know that Leo 'L' Jones was scheduled for execution tomorrow. That wasn't L – I am L, I assure you I really exist! Now I'll give you a little information in return – this broadcast isn't worldwide. This is only showing in the Kanto region in Japan. It's the most densely populated you see, so I thought I'd start here, but I really didn't expect it to go so well. Thank you, Kira."

Rose laughed. _I forgot how cocky he could be, he's even more condescending than he was to the British police._

"So now you know what I know, and know that I am L, try to kill me! Go on, kill me! Kill me! What's wrong, can't you do it? Do it!"

"You stupid cocky prick, what if he CAN do it?" Rose yelled at the screen, her laughter turned to fear. But her fears were unfounded, another minute of L's taunting passed, and his voice was still there.

"So it seems there ARE people you can't kill. That's a very useful hint. I'm incredibly interested to learn how you kill from a distance, but I can wait until I catch you. You can answer all my questions then. I hope to meet you soon."

Rose's fear turned back to laughter. _Fair one L, you nailed that._ _This case is going to be MORE than fascinating, with a phantom killer, an ex-criminal detective, and you._

She made food, showered, pondered the case. Her heart tugged at the thought of Isaac, and the gentle waves of pain that rolled through her heart crystallised her will into an all-encompassing drive to stop the killer. She was set now. _If L doesn't get there first, I will bring you down_.

 **(gap)**

L looked up at the ugly apartment block. He was sat in the darkness in the car he'd bought on arrival in Japan, a red Honda. With Wammy gone, driving was of course his own responsibility. It had taken him about half an hour to work out how to do it, and now he drove with ease, though it irritated him that he could not drive with his feet upon the seat.

 _What's this feeling I'm having?_ L tried to analyse his internal state. But it was difficult. He was feeling something he very rarely felt. His mind was jittery and excitable. It felt like there were small creatures flying around his stomach **,** and it made him feel a bit ill. When he held out his hand in front of him it shook gently, and his heart was about 20% faster than usual. _Aaah. I think I understand it, I've seen these symptoms in others. I think this is the feeling of being 'nervous'._

He got out of the car and began climbing the steps. It seemed to take an interminably long time to get to the top. He mentally prepared himself as he reached to knock in the door. _Prepare for the worst. You may be flat-out rejected and told to leave. You can take it in your stride_. Calming his breath, L knocked.

Rose heard the noise with surprise, and stopped training Kung Fu. No one ever came round but Light, and he always asked first. So it was with trepidation that she wiped the sweat off her face and opened the door.

Nothing could have prepared her for the sight that greeted her. Ryuzaki, L, stood as hunched as ever in the dimly lit doorway. The light from her apartment only reached half of his face, the rest lay in shadow. His mouth was downturned, his pale face angular and unreadable, his raven hair shockingly messy. His eyes...

"Rose." His voice was barely more than a whisper, and Rose shivered. She hadn't heard her real name spoken in over a year. In fact she was pretty sure it was L himself who had last spoken it. Hazily she recalled him crouching on the chair next to his bed, gazing down with implacable tenderness.

She felt like time was frozen. Rose eventually realised she was gaping at him, and closed her mouth. "Sorry, where are my manners? Come in." She stumbled over her words. _It's weird_ , she thought _, I thought I might feel angry if this happened but I feel... okay._

L shuffled tentatively into the flat, taking it all in with fast darting glances. _So far so good, she hasn't hit you or chucked you out yet._ "Nice apartment." _Was that what people said in these situations?_

"Thanks. Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, that would be lovely." _Why does my voice always sound sarcastic?_

He wondered what to do with himself, eventually settling in a crouch on the purple sofa whilst Rose busied herself in the kitchen making tea. After a few minutes of silence, she came to the sofa and sat down on the other end, placing a cup of tea and a well-stocked sugar bowl in front of him. He flinched internally at the sight of her missing fingers.

"Thank you." L stirred several spoonfuls into the dark liquid, unable to lift his eyes from the swirling cup. _Say something you idiot._ But he was saved the trouble of beginning.

"I saw your broadcast," Rose said, watching him carefully.

"And what do you think?"

"It was a good idea. It proved a lot. Risky though, you didn't know he couldn't kill you."

"No, it was a gamble, but I think I'm correct in believing that Kira needs-"

"-a name and a face," Rose finished. "Yes, I've looked at the data too." L flicked his onyx eyes up to Rose briefly, and nodded.

"And have you worked out the bit that I didn't speak of in the broadcast?"

"I think so. The first criminal to have died of a heart attack died before being made public. So Kira is either in the NPA or has an informant within us."

"Or they hacked the NPA," L added.

"No." Rose shook her head, and L turned to her questioningly. _Those eyes._ "About a month after joining the NPA, I overhauled the NPA's cyber-security myself. As you could testify yourself, no one can get through my walls, and I have access to all traffic."

L raised his eyebrows. "That's very interesting to learn." He sipped his tea. "When I first saw your face on the database, I thought Kira might be you. Such killings require a perpetrator with as high intelligence as you, I am sure of it."

Rose chuckled gently. "I'm not entirely sure I can take that as a compliment. What made you change your mind?"

"When I saw Isaac Goldberg was dead today, I knew for sure it couldn't be you. I could never quite believe it anyway – no one who had spent as much time with criminals as you could have such a childish sense of justice."

"I suppose you're right."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Rose shrugged. "I lost him years ago. My grief for Isaac was mostly done when he went to prison."

L nodded. There was a pause.

"Wammy died."

Rose's eyes widened. "Shit! Was it Kira?"

"I don't think so. It was before I took the case on, and if Kira had the ability to kill Wammy, I'm sure he'd be able to kill me as well."

"Yes, I see that. How are you doing?"

"Life goes on."

 _That means, 'I'm totally ignoring and denying it', doesn't it L?_ They drank tea in silence for a moment.

"Why are you here?"

L put his cup down carefully, and looked at her. "I want you to work with me. Not permanently," he added quickly, "just while I'm solving the Kira case. I planned to cooperate with the NPA at first, but once I saw the date of the death of Nakamura, and especially after what you just told me about it not being a hack, I am certain that is the NPA itself I should be investigating. And for that I need someone in the inside, someone I can trust. Though it pains me to admit it, I can't do this on my own," he added drily.

 _So he still trusts me after all this time,_ Rose thought. His trust may have been horribly hard to win, but it seemed like once gained, it was never lost. "I understand."

"Now this is important. Had anyone else worked out that Kira may be a member of the NPA?"

Rose shook her head. "They all think that Kira's second victim was the first victim. Nobody has linked Nakamura's death to Kira. They're a bit slow." She chuckled fondly. _Except for Light... now why hadn't he mentioned that fact to her? Well, I suppose I haven't mentioned it to him._

"Good. It is vital that no one in the NPA realises I am investigating them. This will give the element of surprise – Kira won't be expecting to be watched."

L watched Rose tuck her legs up into a cross-legged position, leaning against the opposite arm of the sofa. Her hair was a few inches shorter than it had been in England but was still lustrously chestnut, and fell in soft shining waves to her chest. Her hazel eyes were slightly narrowed – she was thinking hard.

"I will work with you on this case," she said eventually. L shoulders relaxed a little with relief. "I want to avenge Isaac. And my curiosity about this case is really riled – it shouldn't be possible."

"Exactly. And yet it's happening."

"What do you need me to do?"

"First, I need you get my communication laptop into the department without anyone seeing – I'll say Watari couldn't stay, but dropped it there earlier. Then I will speak to the police, and tell them that after my broadcast last night, I have realised that it is too dangerous to let members of the NPA – whose names and faces are easily accessible – to work on the case. I will say that I will work on it alone, for their own safety. That should be a good enough reason."

"I imagine so."

"In particular, during and after this, please take note of who looks or sounds annoyed not to be investigating Kira. Though some will out of innocence, our informant or Kira himself will ALSO be highly upset by this – he'll be wanting to keep a close eye on things in order to better evade the investigation."

Rose nodded. "That sounds like a plan."

"I thought we could discuss things further tomorrow evening. Would you come to my hotel?"

"Which one?"

"Currently, Andaz Tokyo Toronamon Hills. Ask for Ryuzaki, of course."

Silence fell again. _She looks happier than she used to,_ L thought. _He looks more tired than he used to,_ Rose thought. As if the weight of the world had pressed him even further down. But just as she thought it, a boyish smile spread over his face, and made his look years younger.

"What is it?"

"I'm surprised I've made it this far. I thought you might give me a serious beating for intruding on your life," his eyes flashed with dark humour.

"I haven't forgiven you. I'm just saving it for a more satisfyingly vengeful moment," Rose warned in a serious voice. But her eyes were laughing.

"I look forward to it."

"You really shouldn't."

L dipped his head away to hide his smile. It faded eventually, and he turned back to her, serious once more. "I want you to know," he said slowly, "that I only ask you for your help with the full belief that you will be safe in this investigation. If I thought your life could be in danger, I wouldn't ask. But since no one in the world except for me knows your real name... I figured you'll definitely be safe from Kira, even if he were to suspect your involvement."

Rose inclined her head at the sentiment. "Thank you. The thought had occurred to me too. I probably wouldn't have accepted so easily otherwise. Though I'm still not quite as safe as you are, since nobody knows YOUR real name I imagine, now Wammy is deceased."

"I promise you that I would take yours to the grave. After all, it would only be fair..." he trailed off awkwardly, unwilling to bring up _that_ particular incident.

Rose grimaced. "True. You better be good at keeping promises."

"I am when I mean them."

"Then I hope you meant that one."

"I did."

"Good."

L stood up. "I better go," he said stiffly. "From now on I will call you Emily-san. So good bye, Emily-san."

"Good bye Ryuzaki-san."

He let himself out quietly. Rose sat on the sofa for many minutes, trying to process what had just happened. She frowned and blinked, and tried to accept that the evening had been real. After a while the reality hit her and she burst out laughing, rolling over on the sofa in fits of giggles. _What a bizarre turn of events_.

 _Thank you for reading, please review if you can be bothered, it's always interesting to hear your thoughts = ] and of course follow/favourite if you think it's worth it – it gives the author's ego a lovely boost haha xD nah, in all seriousness, im pretty sure most fanfiction writers are slightly addicted to the feedback... Haha, bye bye, till next time x_


	23. Chapter 23: Rich Ryuzaki

_Fairly long one here, hope you enjoy!_

L's message to the police came to an end. They were back in the long conference room, and around the room policemen were varyingly sighing with relief, shrugging with apathy, or muttering angrily at being told they could not work on the case for reasons of safety. Rose scanned each face quickly, mentally noting anyone she could see with anger and frustration in their eyes. She didn't have time to look at everyone though, there were 140 people after all, and not all were in sight.

"Shucks, that's a shame isn't it?" said Touta Matsuda with a little sigh. "Coulda been quite exciting."

"Yeah," Rose made her face look annoyed, "I can't believe this L guy just assumes we're not willing to risk out lives to find this murderer."

She turned to Light, and was a little shocked at the anger seething in his eyes, before it

quickly settled into a more normal frustration. "Me too. God, I was looking forward to this case. Finally something challenging! Working with L to catch Kira would have felt like I was actually DOING something for once."

 _Urgh, now I feel guilty._ Rose observed Light's gorgeous face shrouded with glumness _. I'm doing exactly what my best friend wants to do, and lying to him about it. This is morally dubious to say the least._ "Yeah it sucks."

"Though I suppose, if Kira can kill with just a name and a face as L thinks, it makes perfect sense. No point letting anyone vulnerable to him work on the case, they'd just get annihilated."

 _Just like I'm going to have to annihiliate you, L._ Light thought regretfully. _It's such a shame – I've always respected you. To be honest, I thought maybe we'd have had a more similar idea of justice. But since you're so clearly against my way of doing things, you leave me no choice but to get rid of you._

The day wore on, and as she and Light went through the motions of an insurance fraud case, Rose pondered intensely on how she could start narrowing down her suspects. It was a strange feeling, knowing that someone in the building was _either_ Kira's police-bitch or Kira himself. _Or HERself_ , Rose corrected, _let's not make any assumptions here._

As the working day ended, she said good bye to Light and Touta. She breathed a sigh of relief that Light hadn't asked her to come round that night, because she'd have found it pretty hard to come up with a decent excuse. Rose didn't really _have_ any other friends that she could be seeing.

Once she'd changed out of police clothes at her flat, a train took her to the part of town where L was staying. She walked to the hotel working out her ideas, but the sight of the place interrupted the train of thought. A shining spire of concrete, steel and endless glass rose majestically out of the street. The foyer was no less dazzling, with lavishly expensive but tastefully minimal architecture, the functional and the artistic blurring into one. Rose felt conspicuously out of place her jeans. _God, why didn't I look up this place beforehand to see what I was getting myself into?_

The receptionist, an impressively glamorous receptionist, asked for her name.

"Im here to see Ryuzaki," Rose deflected the question. "If you give him a call, he'll send me on up."

She nodded politely, and picked up the phone. The call was done in seconds.

"Go on up. It's room 89."

"Thank you." As Rose turned to leave, the receptionist called her back.

"Wait, just before you leave, I'm really curious, who IS he? He looks like a mess, but must be loaded. I'm sorry to pry, but is he like one of those Silicon Valley nerds or something? You know like, inventing things for Google and stuff?"

Rose laughed. "Sort of. He works with computers, you're right."

The girl grinned. "I knew it. Thanks, sorry to ask you!"

Rose took the lift up. The corridor on the fifth floor was thickly carpeted, and Rose's shoes sank into it silently. It was low-lit was a diffuse orange glow, from lights that Rose couldn't see, disguised as they were amongst many panes of translucent coloured glass and reflective surfaces. _This place is ridiculous._ Door 89. She knocked.

The door opened a crack. A dark eye peered through. "Stanton-san. Come in."

Rose entered. Off to her left some curving steps led up to a generous bed, and a separate room that must've been the bathroom. Elegant partitions of artistically twisted bits of metal and glass half-separated it from the rest of the room. Off to her right, the steps led down to a lower room, the living area, with half-moon green sofas, and bizarre bits of modern art hanging from the walls. A bar and black granite kitchen surface lay behind it. Two whole walls, behind the kitchen area and all along the front of the living room and bedroom, were entirely glass. Tokyo stretched out behind it, a glittering, sprawling metropolis.

Rose burst out laughing.

"Why are you laughing?" probed L's monotone voice.

"Jesus Ryuzaki-san, how rich ARE you?"

"Hmm." His thumb came to his lips, and his eyes roamed the ceiling as he thought. "Quite rich I suppose."

"Jesus," Rose said again. "I suppose you did send me off with a million quid." She shook her head in disbelief. "You do realise you stick out here like a sore thumb?"

"Yes, I know." His face lifted in amusement. "I have a lot of fun playing the rich reclusive genius."

"That's not a role, that's what you are," Rose pointed out.

"Mmm, that's true." Hs voice was a smirk, despite his poker face. He strolled over to where his computer was set up on the glass coffee table between the half-moon sofas, and picked up a wallet. "Look, I've learnt from my mistakes," he said, and showed her Ryuzaki's passport and driving licence. "Ryuzaki now officially exists, and no one like you can hack government records and find out it's an alias."

"I can't believe you made that error."

"Me neither," he said ruefully. "It was very painful admitting that mistake. To be honest, I'd never encountered the problem before. I'd never spoken to a stranger long enough for them to get curious."

"A dangerous game."

"Very dangerous. So Emily-san have you eaten?"

"No."

"I'll call for room service." He reached for the phone hanging on the wall behind the sofa. "Mmhmmm, yes? Room service, good. I would like..." He held up an embossed menu between his forefinger and thumb. "... a... no, three purin's please. And..." he offered the menu to Rose. She indicated at random. "...the... special sushi selection. That will be all."

"So," he said professionally, "without further ado, let's get down to business."

"Yes. As a first measure I'm going to set up intensive cyber-surveillance monitoring all traffic from all computers in the department. Kira or the informant are unlikely to use a work computer, but on the off chance they do, it will be good to have that in place." Rose skimmed quickly through the technical details so he knew how it was going to work what it was looking for.

"So it will automatically give us graphs and spreadsheets on all data patterns?"

"Yes."

"That sounds ideal. What about manual surveillance in the building, do you have access to that? And the phone monitoring?"

"Not technically, but I could do without any trouble."

"Good. Do that."

A knock on the door heralded the arrival of their food. A smart waiter handed them a large platter with the three puddings and Rose's sushi, and backed out of the room obsequiously. They both dived in hungrily.

When he'd finished the first pudding in about two minutes flat, L paused, and observed his companion eating with gusto. "You've developed an appetite."

Rose nodded, chewing the rice. "Mmhmm. Someone taught me how to eat. Taught me a lot of things, actually," she added, smiling fondly at the memories of Josie. "No one's taught YOU to eat better!"

"There's nothing wrong with my eating," he said innocently.

"I just don't understand how you're still alive."

"Mostly strawberries and adrenaline".

Rose snorted. "Okay then. So how are we gonna cover the suspects?"

"Mmm, I've been wondering this," L said through mouthfuls of the second custardy pudding. "We could feasibly get some FBI agents to follow everyone, though that could be slow to cover everybody. Or, we could find out a way to draw Kira out into revealing something about himself that narrows the list of suspects down. We should also do thorough background checks for anyone that could have a particularly strong motive to rid the world of criminals."

"Though of course, many policemen by the very nature of their work tend to have such histories," Rose interjected.

"Yes, that occurred to me. But it won't harm to check." L spooned the last of his third pudding into his mouth. "I'm personally leaning toward to second option. It sounds far more fun."

"Drawing him out? Or nearer? I agree." Rose's mind whizzed. "How about something like this... We 'accidentally' leak to the rest of police that I'm secretly working for L to uncover Kira, in a way that I wouldn't hear about, and in a way that they won't reveal their knowledge if it to me. Kira is sure to try and kill me, but when they can't because of not knowing my name-"

"They'll try and get close to you, to learn of your real name," L finished, still monotone, but excitement creeping through. "They won't realise you know they know you're working with me, so won't think it's too dangerous to do. And that person-"

"Will be our informant or the suspect himself." Rose grinned.

L nodded with satisfaction, and rubbed his toes together. "Ryuzaki likes this plan. It will certainly help us bring Kira to justice."

"Also, I trust the Chief. I've never met a more moral and upstanding man. I think we could use him in this ploy."

At that moment Rose's phone buzzed with a text. _Hey you wanna come over and watch a film or something?_ It was Light of course, the only person ever to text her.

"I'm going to have to leave. I don't have any valid excuses for not being able to do this, and we haven't seen each other in days."

"Who is it?"

"My detective partner Light Yagame-san."

"Son of Chief Yagame?"

"That's right. He's my only friend," Rose admitted, "and he knows that, so I really couldn't come up with a good excuse for not coming over."

"Yes that makes sense. That's fine. We can continue another day. Here's my number."

They swapped numbers.

"Another thing," said Rose.

"Yes?"

"Can we arrange it so that Light doesn't know I'm working with you? You see, you're his idol, and if he knew that I was working with you without telling him, he'd be so upset."

"That sounds fair enough." L sighed. His face looked downcast.

"What's the matter?"

"I've now got to do what I've been dreading all week."

"What's that?"

"I've got to _move hotels_." He said it with as much mournfulness as if he'd been announcing he were having to dig his own grave. "It's just so difficult without Wammy. I have to work out where to go... book it... speak to people... pack up the equipment... move the equipment... drive... unpack the equipment..." He rubbed his eyes. "I've put off doing it for three days, I should already have left, I've been here a week."

His black doe-eyes looked at Rose with such pathetic sorrow that she couldn't help but laugh. _I've never seen this dimension to him before._

"You've been mummy-ed for far too long."

"Hmm that may be true, but I'm still the best detective in the world." The youthful vulnerability morphed into a commanding stare.

"You're the most powerful detective in the world," Rose corrected, meeting his stare with ease. "I'm pretty sure me and Light-kun could both give you a run for your money when it came to skill."

"Light-san too? Can that be true?"

"You'd agree if you met him." Rose thought for a moment, watching his face cool back into impassivity. _Is there even any point asking this? He probably won't say yes anyway, so it won't hurt to put it out there._ "Hey, look. If you really can't stand moving around all the time, you can just come and stay at mine. The only person that ever comes round is Light, so it wouldn't expose you to the world. We can just tell Light you're a friend from England coming to see the country his father came from."

L stroked his lip. Rose couldn't read his expression. Perhaps she could have, if her gaze hadn't been fixed on the thumb moving across his lip, pulling it forward, gently letting it go again.

"Yes, I think that would be fine. This gives us even more of a reason to exclude Light-san from knowing that you're working with L – if his deductive powers are as strong as you suggest, he would be sure to be suspicious of me if I turned up right at the same time."

She blanched in surprise. _I did not expect him to say yes._ "Okay then. I'll give you my key. You can move your stuff into the living room whilst I go to Light-kun's. Then I can warn him that you're coming to stay tomorrow."

"Good."

She left the ridiculous hotel, and texted Light. _Sure, I'll be there soon_ _._

 **(gap)**

"Hey Ryuk, this means I can schedule people to die whenever I want, right?"

"Maybe."

Light tossed the gangly shinigame a shining red apple. He devoured it in seconds.

"Mmm, nom, yes, they'll die whenever you tell them too."

"Perfect. This was I can keep seeing Emily-kun and not arouse suspicion." Light decreed several more deaths in the notebook. With each name he wrote, he felt a delicious surge of power ripple through his body. With each death, he felt more and more like a god. Light carefully secreted the notebook in his booby-trapped drawer as he heard the knock on his door.

"Emily-kun!"

They curled up on a pair of beanbags – highly colour-coordinated in mutes greys and blues – and watched some vaguely entertaining crime thriller film. The most fun part was pointing out all the obvious ways the detectives could've done a better job and solved the case in a matter of hours. The credits rolled. _I should probably inform him about Ryuzaki now. Must remember to call him by the close-friend honorific now._

"Hey Light-kun, I've got a friend from England coming to stay."

"Oh really? Wow, from the amount you've told me about your past, I was pretty sure your life in England never actually existed," he teased.

"It did! Yeah, he's a computer programmer called Ryuzaki-kun. He's a bit... odd, but I'm sure you'll like him, he's super-intelligent just like you. He's thinking of moving to Japan, it was where his father's family came from."

"Cool. I look forward to meeting him."

 _This is all going very smoothly,_ Rose thought with satisfaction. _I'm sorry Light-kun, I wish I could tell you! Maybe when Ryuzaki gets to know you, he'll trust you enough to let you work with us. I know you'd be great in this case._

Eventually Rose walked home, pulling her coat close around her. The realisation that she had invited L to stay with her suddenly dawned on her in its full reality. _We're going to be around each other every moment of the day that I'm not at work or Lights. Was that a wise decision?_

When she got back into the flat, L had adjusted the layout of the living room to accommodate his things. He crouched on the purple sofa, staring intently at the computer he'd set up on the coffee table.

"Hello," Rose said uncertainly.

"Hello." He didn't turn round. "I forgot to thank you for your hospitality."

"No problem." _Is it no problem? This is already bizarre and he's only just got here. What if we drive each other mad?_ "Tea?"

"Yes, thank you."

"I hope you won't mind sleeping on the sofa."

"That's fine. I only sleep for one sleep cycle anyway."

"I only sleep for two."

"Lucky."

Rose laughed. "I don't think anyone else has ever called my amount of sleep lucky before."

"What I would give to sleep for three hours," he said drily.

As the kettle boiled Rose was overwhelmed with paranoia at having to spend the next several hours with him. _Fuck. I won't be able to think of anything to say. Now he's around me all the time he's probably going to realise how boring I actually am. Urgh. Need to escape._ Luckily L's eyes never left the screen, and so she didn't have to try and hide the fear playing over her face.

L couldn't move his eyes from the screen. He carefully controlled his expression to one of calm concentration, but he wasn't concentrating on the words at all. _Oh dear. I'm never spent a long time with anyone but Wammy. What sort of things do you do when you're around someone? Do people entertain themselves with activities? Do they sit around and chat? HOW do you chat? Are we obliged to speak all the time? Is silence bad etiquette?_

Rose cleared her throat. "I'm going to go and do yoga in my room. I'll see you in the morning."

L breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Okay. See you." _Crisis averted!_

 _Thank you very much for reading! Do share your opinions on the way I'm developing their characters if you feel so inclined. Fave/follow if you enjoy this shit. I'm now gonna go and find my friends downstairs and drink lots of rum. Have a nice day = ] peace x_


	24. Chapt24: Lying don't come easy to Yagame

_Good evening reader! Without further ado..._

Soichiro Yagame listened to L's voice through Emily Stanton-san's laptop with a frown.

"So let me get this straight, you're really having to investigate the NPA?"

"Yes."

"And to do that, you need me to convince the rest of the police force that Stanton-san is working for you but that they shouldn't let on to her that they know that?"

"That's correct."

"I really don't like the idea of lying to my colleagues and subordinates."

"I understand that Chief Yagame-san, but we have to draw Kira out. Also, if you can avoid Light knowing, this would put Stanton-san's mind at rest."

Soichiro Yagame sighed. "Okay. I don't like it, but I trust the judgment of Stanton-san, and your reputation indicates that I should trust you too, L. I'll do what I can."

"Thank you. Your cooperation is deeply appreciated." The screen went blank.

"Okay Stanton-san, you can make your excuses now."

"Thank you Chief." Rose bowed slightly, and went back to her desk.

"Hey Light-kun, wanna come and get a coffee?"

"Sure, I'm a bit of a lull right now."

As they left the building, Soichiro took up the microphone that would address the entire department.

"Would everyone meet immediately in the conference room. As quickly as possible!"

When the police force had assembled, Soichiro took to the podium. _I have my reservations. But if this stops Kira, it'll all be worth it._

"I've brought you here to tell you that two of your colleagues are secretly working with L to catch Kira. The reason that it was kept a secret is that L believes Kira may have an informant within the NPA."

There were surprised whispers.

"Now the reason I'm telling you this is that I think it's an immense breach of trust for something like that to happen within the police force, and I couldn't stand by and let it happen when I found out. I have also reviewed their evidence and think it's highly tenuous. I thought you have the right to know – I'm sure you all have nothing to fear, because I trust that none of you are involved. However, I regret to say that I cannot stop them because their investigation is now being undertaken by an emergency international police association that I have no power over. It's beyond my control, but I thought you had the right to know.

Please, do not tell either of them that you're aware of what I've just told you. If L and the international association find out, I'll be seriously penalised. I've just done what I thought was right."

Soichiro left the podium, and a few policemen cursed the lack of trust and congratulated him on his bravery. He gritted his teeth and accepted the compliments. _I hope that was convincing enough. And I hope you're right to do this, L. Lying is not something that comes easily to a Yagame._

 **(gap)**

Daylight had faded from sky. It was near the end of the working day, and Rose and Light filled in their paperwork in the unnatural illumination of the ugly strip-lights above their desks.

"So what are you doing tonight?" Light enquired.

"Dunno. Probably just help Ryuzaki-kun settle in. Hey, you could come over and have dinner if you like."

"Sure, why not."

Light drove them to the shops to buy the ingredients, then round to her flat. Rose mentally prepared herself. She wasn't sure entirely what to expect for the interaction of her only two friends. _Is L a friend? Or a work associate? Or... I don't know._

They entered. L's head span round. He gazed at them owlishly. L took in the gleaming swish of Light Yagame's hair, his rich brown eyes, his perfectly proportioned face, and upright posture. He wore clean, ironed clothes of good labels, well-shined shoes, and an expression of total ease.

"Hey, you must be Ryuzaki-san. I'm so pleased to meet you, I'm Light Yagame." Light scanned the bizarre owlish form before him. Every part of him seemed crumpled into a ball, his clothes, his back, his hair.

"Ryuzaki is pleased to make your acquaintance, Light-san." Something inside L felt slightly threatened by Light's aura of perfection. _He's everything that I'm not. He's what people call a 'real man', no?_

"So, will you guys chop the vegetables whilst I cook the meat and stuff?"

"Sure," Light agreed amiably, and took a seat at the dining table.

"Urhh, sure." L concurred, and hopped onto a chair opposite him. Rose handed them chopping boards, knives and vegetables, and Light began to peel and chop the items with swift expertise. L picked up the knife between his forefinger and thumb, examining the blade. _What do I do?_ He observed Light for a few seconds, picked it up quickly, and followed suit. _Better start a conversation to distract him for my appalling lack of normal skills._

"So, Emily-kun tells me you're a very good detective."

"Really? She flatters me," Light replied modestly. "Emily-kun is the talented one."

"Don't be stupid Light-kun you're just as good from me!" Rose called over the kitchen counters.

"I'm a computer programmer, but I've always been interested in detection," L commented mildly. "Tell me, I'm curious, in your professional opinion, what do you make of the Kira case?"

 _L what are you doing?_ Thought Rose. _How can you be so blasé about asking that kind of question?_ But it didn't seem like Light was fazed. Then again, not much fazed Light.

"Hmm, it's an interesting one. Of course any case that was being worked on by the NPA would be classified information and I wouldn't be allowed to speak to you about it. But, actually, we're not working on the Kira case anymore, so I suppose it won't hurt to discuss."

 _How law-abiding. I suppose he did grow up the son of a chief of police._ "Oh? Why not?"

"Some people thought it would be too dangerous for the police to work on it, so a secret operation has taken it over."

"So, what are your intuitions?"

Light thought carefully. Ryuzaki's probing stare hadn't left his face for almost a minute. Somehow, he was still chopping carrots without looking. _What's with this guy? He's really intense. And he sits so weirdly. I didn't think Emily would have these kind of friends. What should I say?_

"My thoughts," L said before he could speak, "is that Kira has some kind of power that we don't understand."

"Yes, I mean, that is what it looks like," Light replied. "But I mean, whilst it may look like Kira has some supernatural power to kill, that can't really be the case. No, Kira is just an ordinary killer with ordinary powers, we just haven't worked out quite how he does it yet."

"Mmm you're probably right."

"Either way, I can't stand that the NPA have been denied the right to investigate. I want nothing more than to bring Kira to justice myself. I can't stand sitting by whilst that murderer is on the loose."

"Your dedication is admirable. And what do you make of Emily-kun's opinion on the matter?"

"What opinion?"

L raised his eyebrows innocently. "She hasn't told you?"

 _What game are you playing L?_ Rose fretted.

"No?"

"Well, if your deductive powers are as good as she says they are, then I'd be surprised if you hadn't actually come to the same conclusion."

 _You're just testing his character aren't you L. You love doing this._

Light wondered how to answer. Ryuzaki's blank, innocent expression taunted him. _I don't want to say anything that actually reveals something. But neither do I want this odd fellow deciding that I'm not as good a detective as Emily has made out. Damnit! I_

"Well," Light began slowly, "there's been so little information disclosed about the case, that Emily could have only worked off that small number of facts. And that's who's died and when and how, and that the secret investigators decided not to use the police after all. And if you put those two facts together... It seems a bit odd for the secret investigators to backtrack so quickly like that. There's several reasons that they could have done so. But if you look at the first deaths, it narrows it down to one highly probable scenario. If the first official Kira death wasn't actually the first death, but Nakamura the day before was the first one, then that puts suspicion onto the NPA themselves, because Nakamura wasn't reported. Which easily explains with the secret team withdrew their cooperation."

L raised his eyebrows. "I'm highly impressed at your reasoning. You worked out exactly the same scenario as Emily-kun. You two make an excellent partnership."

Light smiled graciously. _Hah. Can't taunt me now, can you?_

L watched Light out of the corner of his eye. _He really is a disturbingly perfect human being. I can see why Rose likes him._

The food cooked. Light attempted to make normal conversation with Emily's guest, but it wasn't easy. The man's observant manner unnerved him. Eventually Rose brought the food to the table. They sat, ready to begin.

"Well, this is nice," Ryuzaki drawled. Rose coughed with laughter. Watching them try to interact had been hilarious.

L sniffed at the dish of noodles, meat and vegetables. _I'm not sure I can stomach this._ "Emily-kun, could you please pass the sugar?"

Rose raised her eyebrows, but gave it to him. With great nonchalance, L sprinkled a lavish quantity of sugar over the steaming savoury plate.

Light blanched. "I'm sorry Ryuzaki, but what are you doing?"

The man, still crouched on his chair, shrugged. "To me it would be unbearably disgusting without."

Light could barely control the disapproving look on his face. _How rude to the cook._ "Whatever suits you, I suppose." _If I know anything about psychology, this guy is seriously on the spectrum._

The meal passed after that without too much awkwardness. Rose expertly guided the conversation to safe and diverting areas, and there were relatively few silences. Eventually, the meal over, Light made his excuses and left.

Rose flopped on the sofa and rubbed her eyes. "Ryuzaki-kun, you grew up in an orphanage for gifted children, right?"

"Right." L was still perched on the chair at the table, and scratched his head.

"Was the sole purpose to train people to do your job?"

"That's correct."

"Why on earth don't they train you to be socialised?"

"That's not very polite Emily-kun," he said coolly. She couldn't tell if he was offended or was joking.

"I'm sorry. I just find it a bit strange that they didn't consider that to be a good idea."

"That's fair enough." L dismounted his perch and joined her on the sofa. "I was the first in-depth experiment, they couldn't have been expected to get it ALL right first time. As far as I'm aware the newer waves of kids are made to have far more societal interaction than I had."

Rose shook her head. "It's an odd set up, isn't it."

"No odder than yours," he countered.

"True." _Why was I so scared about interacting with his yesterday? It's easy. I can say anything to him, he won't care._

"Emily-kun would you like to train with me?"

"Sure!"

They stood up, and Rose pushed the sofa and the dining table to the edges of the room, exposing a reasonably sized patch of the beige carpet. Rose calmed her mind, brought her presence back into her body, felt the floor beneath her feet, braced herself against it, ready. She watched him do the same, a wave of calm alertness spreading through his posture.

They dived towards each other. Rose had got even better over the time she'd spend on Tashirojima and in Tokyo, but it seemed like L had too. Every fibre of her being was directed towards him, anticipating every move, blocking it all, sending back vicious attacks, but he mapped her moves as easily as she did his. Their breaths of exertion, the dull thumps of limb hitting limb, were the only sounds. Rose gasped for air. _He will not defeat me. Fighting is a game of wits as much as physical strength, I will not be beaten._ She pulled a sequence of moves that she'd practised on the pebbly beach of Tashirojima almost every day. Her leg caught behind his, and flipped him backwards.

L collapsed, backwards and sideways, and crashed into the kitchen counter.

"Oh, fuck!" Rose rushed to him. "Are you okay?"

L sat up, clutching his nose. "This is the second time," he mumbled from behind his hand, "you've caused me a nose-bleed, Emily-kun."

"Sorry!" She gathered some kitchen roll from the worktop and pressed it to his face. "Maybe we should train outdoors from now on."

"Maybe." L dabbed the blood slowly. Rose saw a devilish look cross his face. "But meanwhile..." Without warning, L dived towards her pushing her over so he was straddled above her, pressed her wrists into the floor.

"That's not fair!" Rose gasped, wriggling against his warm weight. "I stopped!"

L's dark eyes flashed. "I've learnt that sometimes you need to cheat to win."

Rose growled and pushed against him with all her might, but he was far stronger than he looked. "That is the last time I go easy on you."

"Easy," he scoffed, "you have no chance." He gazed down at her. Her cheeks were flushed with anger and effort, her eyes narrowed, her hair splayed out around her, her full mouth parted to gain oxygen. He almost weakened his grip in distraction, but managed to keep his concentration, squeezing his legs around her waist to trap her.

Rose eventually felt the fight drain out of her, and stopped struggling. "Okay. Whatever, you win this time. Just you wait – if you'll play dirty, so will I."

L released her, satisfied. "I still won."

Rose sat up gingerly, and checked her watch. It was already nearly 3am somehow. "I'll be off to bed then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

She got up to walk to her room, but paused without turning round. "Just one more thing..."

Rose jumped round, grabbed his legs and flipped him head over heels onto his back, and sat on his back heavily. His t-shirt was hot and damp beneath her.

"Ow," he mumbled into the floor.

"Never assume your enemy has given up," she whispered into his ear. "Sometimes you've got to cheat to win." There was that smell again, the two-layered smell of strawberries and dark musk.

"I take your point. Though, you may want to let me up, I'm getting blood all over your lovely beige carpet."

She let him up. "Truce for now?"

"Truce."

It seemed like an oddly warm night for early winter. When she went to bed Rose tossed and turned for at least two hours, restless, trying to calm herself and get comfortable. _What's wrong with me today?_ Eventually she drifted into a fitful sleep. She dreamt of epic battles, castles, swordfights, wide skies, and warriors with piercing dark eyes.

 _Thanks for reading! Might need to have a day off from posting tomorrow to catch up, I'm not ahead of with myself in the writing anymore xD Please praise/criticise/tell me what you think of it/ fave/follow = ] Thanks to those people who have reviewed it already, means a lot. Have a nice day x_


	25. Chapter 25: Kiyomi

_Read through it and realised there was a scene I'd missed when posting at the start of this chapter! This bit at the start makes the whole thing make sense haha. Updated now, now it makes sense they tell Light what's going on._

A week passed. It rained almost every day. The grey streets of Tokyo ran with grey, brown and clear water. Everything dripped and squelched. She only lived a few streets away from the police station, but when she got home Rose was sopping wet and freezing. L was predictably crouching on the sofa, working on something. Rose went to change, draping her wet clothes over the radiators, and came back into the living room with a towel around her head.

"I've been looking at the data your program's been gathering. The police records of dying criminals. It seems Kira has been experimenting."

Rose leaned over the sofa to look.

"Three criminals today did things before they died. One drew an elaborate mural on the wall, one confessed to many unexposed crimes, and one wrote a suicide note. There didn't seem to be anything special about the words."

Rose looked at the photo of the drawing. It was a monster with big black wings holding an apple. "I find these results highly disturbing. I mean, they could have done these things off their own backs, but..."

"Yes I know what you mean. What if he can control the actions of the people he kills?" L mused.

"Yeah, to be fair if he can mysteriously kill from a distance it not that much of a stretch to think he can control them too. I've never seen anything like this."

"Me neither. been a week now, have you still not been approached by anyone from the department?"

Rose shook her head. "Not a soul. I've had plenty of betrayed looks and heard mutterings behind my back, but no one's approached me. Hah, Light has been incredibly confused as to why so much of the department is giving us the cold shoulder!"

"I can imagine." L frowned. "I was sure that someone would try and get your name. This puts a twist on things. Perhaps they're biding their time. Or perhaps it was a hack after all. Though there's another obvious conclusion to draw."

"What?"

"That either you, Light-san, or the Chief is Kira."

Rose couldn't tell from his face whether he was joking or not. "Oh come on. You'd have definitely noticed if it was me."

"Well if Kira can kill from a distance and control their victim's actions, then perhaps you're doing it with the power of your mind alone." L raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"You're not seriously suggesting that?" Rose sighed. "Well I know I'm not Kira. The Chief doesn't have a bad bone in his body. And Light-kun – well, he's a good person, he's my friend, I've known him for months. If he was a psychopathic killer, I'm pretty sure I'd have noticed."

"Tell me, what flaws does Light-san have?"

"He thinks he's better than most people, a total narcissist. Though of course the trouble is that he generally IS better than most people, at almost anything, so he's not wrong." Rose laughed. "That's his other flaw – Light-kun's _too_ perfect, in my book. And that's coming from a perfectionist. I sometimes have to poke him to check he's real."

"Hmm."

"That said," Rose remembered her conversation with Light a few weeks back, "he did confess to being pretty angry and depressed. Said he wished he could do something more useful with his life, something more like you L, actually. He wanted YOUR job."

"Did he really? Now that's very interesting." L turned round on the sofa so he was facing her where she leant on the back of it, and stared up at her keenly. "Now don't you think that sounds like just the sort of person who would try to rid the world of all criminals? A man with a perfect mask, a messiah complex, and a high level of hidden discontent?"

"Well, yes," Rose admitted. "But we could make many people's character fit the bill if we really tried, including yours."

L frowned. "That's probably true."

"Though," added Rose, "if you were Kira, you'd have definitely killed me. I'm both a criminal AND working to stop Kira, which makes me the ideal victim!"

"Shall we get Light-san to work with us?"

Rose raised her eyebrows. "You want to spy on him don't you!" She accused.

"Yes."

"You really think it could be him?"

"There's a one percent chance."

Rose sighed. "I agree that his character fits the bill. So, I have a professional obligation to let this happen. But be nice to him, okay? It will probably turn out that he's entirely unrelated to it all, and I don't want us all to be fighting all the time because no one trusts each other."

"I understand." L swivelled back round to face his computer, and Rose wandered into the kitchen. A towering pile of teacups, saucers, and empty pudding bowls teetered next to the sink.

And er, Ryuzaki-kun..."

"Yes?"

"You need to wash these up."

"Wash them up...?" His owlish gaze turned to her, confused.

Rose bit back her laughter, and pulled a disapproving face at him. _There's so many things that 'the world's greatest detective' still needs to learn._

 **(gap)**

"Emily-kun what's going on?" Light could tell from her face that she was trying to say something to him, but hadn't worked out the words. He leant against her dining table, watching her anxious expression. Rose perched on the arm of the sofa, Ryuzaki was crouched on the coffee table next to her. _On the table. Doesn't he know ANYTHING about etiquette?_

"The thing is, I haven't been entirely honest with you lately." Rose played with her hair, wondering how to phrase the confession.

"What Emily-kun is trying to tell you," Ryuzaki interjected, "is that I am L."

Light froze. Time seemed to slow, his heart raced. _Whaaat? THIS guy is L? He's so young and... weird, not how I imagined at all. This is the person trying to bring me down? Mustn't let anything but a little confusion and surprise cross my face._ He heard Ryuk chuckle next to him. Ryuzaki had not stopped staring at him for a single second.

"Well this puts a spin on things doesn't it Light?" Ryuk growled with amusement.

"You're L?" Light asked. "I can barely believe that. Surely L would never show his face."

"It's true," Rose said, "I know for sure that Ryuzaki-kun is L."

"How?"

"We worked together in England," Rose lied.

Light shook his head in disbelief. "Then if you're L... Emily-kun does this mean you're working with him on the Kira case?"

Rose nodded guiltily. "I'm sorry Light-kun, I'd have told you sooner if I could!"

 _Emily why have you made yourself my enemy? Of all the people, I'd have preferred not to have to erase you. I must make myself seem a little hurt and angry at her betrayal, but not excessively so._ Light made his face look hurt.

"I can't pretend I don't feel betrayed. You know how much I've longed to work on that case! And with L!"

"I'm sorry. L didn't know if he could trust you."

Light made his face calm down a little, and he nodded, as if hurt but understanding. _Got to play this carefully._ "I wish I could have been working with you, but I can understand why you couldn't tell me. Especially with the death of Nakamura implicating the police. So, does this mean you trust me now?"

"No. I think you're Kira," L said calmly.

Rose glanced sideways at him. His probing gaze had not left Light's face for a single second.

Light laughed lightly. "You think I'M Kira?"

Rose returned to looking at Light. He looked so easygoing, unperturbed. _That doesn't look like an act to me_.

"Yes," L said. "But if it turns out that you aren't, then I'd love you to work with us."

"And Emily-kun, what do you think about this?" Light settled his face into a hurt expression again. "Surely you don't think it's even a remote possibility? You know me better than that."

"I do think it's totally far-fetched," Rose admitted. "But leave no stone unturned. Besides, now I can actually tell you what I've been doing." Rose explained how L had come to the conclusion that Kira could be him.

Light nodded. "I see. And he doesn't suspect you or my father? That hardly seems fair."

"Emily-kun and Chief Yagame-san are too mature to be Kira," L remarked casually.

 _How dare he? I'm perfectly mature._ "Hey now Ryuzaki-san, that's quite insulting."

The raven-haired man shrugged. "That's just how I see it. Oh and by the way, if you DO turn out to be Kira, you should probably know that you can't just kill me and Emily-kun and no longer be a suspect. I informed your father this morning that you're under suspicion."

 _Damn him!_ "You told my dad I'm a suspect? That'll make him horribly stressed out, he's already stressed enough as it is. Why did you have to do that?"  
"Self-preservation. Sorry, it was the only way." L munched few grapes. For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime to Light, he dropped his gaze from Light's face and examined his toes.

Rose watched Light's shoulders un-tense as he was released from the stare. _Does that make him more suspicious? Not really. I'd be tense if L was staring at me for that long_.

"So," L said brightly. Brightly didn't suit him. "In a way you should be thankful that I suspect you. Otherwise you'd have probably never gained the opportunity to work with L."

Light growled internally. _He's so full of himself. God, he knows how to get under my skin. To be honest, I'm looking forward to the day I can kill him._

They finished up their conversation, and Light asked them to do whatever was necessary to clear his name, and that he would work with them whenever they were ready. L suggested after a period of 24/7 surveillance. Still feeling bad, Rose followed Light out to his car.

"Sorry this had to happen."

Light smiled at her warmly. "Hey, it's okay. I was upset at first, but I know you're too good of a detective to allow your personal relationships to get in the way of a potential lead, and I respect that. You're obliged to investigate me, even if it's a tiny possibility. Come here."

He folded his arms around Rose, and hugged tightly. "Don't worry, my name will be cleared soon enough and we can work to catch Kira together! I'm looking forward to it. It's pretty exciting, huh?"

"Yeah," Rose mumbled into his jumper.

"I must say, L's nothing like I expected."

"No, he wasn't when I first met him either."

"It doesn't seem like he's taken to me, but I'm sure me and Ryuzaki-san will grow to become friends eventually."

"Yeah." Rose smiled, they let go of their hug, and Light climbed into his car. _Light isn't Kira. L is without doubt a fantastic detective, but I think he's often TOO paranoid._ As she was only wearing socks, the cold pavement seeped into Rose's toes and she ran quickly back up the stairs.

L watched their embrace out of the window. _Is that what friends are supposed to do? Perhaps I should try it. Or perhaps it's something only people that are more-than-friends do? Are Rose and Light more than friends?_

Rose re-entered the flat. L turned around, his hands in his pockets, his hair falling waywardly cross his face. He looked pensive.

"Are you and Light-san in a relationship?"

Rose laughed, and sat down on the sofa. "No."

"Why not? He's very attractive."

"There's gotta be more to it than that. Besides, we're both too in love with our work. Just like you."

L nodded. "I've always thought that such things would make life a lot more difficult."

"Why do you ask? Is it because you watched us hug?"

"I was curious as to what such an embrace means."

"Well, they can mean different things with different people. But lots of friends hug each other."

L nodded again. "I see. And are we friends?"

"Well, yes I suppose. We're both work associates and friends, I think."

"And when do friends hug each other?"

"All different times. When they say hello or goodbye, when they're excited, when one is sad and needs cheering up... All sorts of times."

"How interesting."

The evening passed quickly and uneventfully. They worked side by side, background checking the other members of the police force for other potential suspects. Tomorrow they would set up surveillance in Light's house and car.

 **(gap)**

Light arrived home fuming.

"Damnit, they got me!" He sank onto the chair at his desk.

"I must admit, that L guy seems to have you sussed," Ryuk mocked.

Light groaned, and rubbed his eyes. "And so would Emily-kun if she wasn't blinded by being my friend. I must make sure to keep my friendship with her strong. At least until I kill her. It's a shame I'll have to do that, but it's too dangerous to let her live." He stroked the Death Note fondly.

"24 hour surveillance, huh? Looks like you're gonna have to come up with something pretty clever to get out of this one, Light." Ryuk cackled.

"I know," Light said calmly. "Luckily, I have the perfect thing up my sleeve. The game has only just begun."

He opened his phone to the text inbox.

' _Hey Light, are you free tonight? Just going out with some mates from the TV station if you fancied joining. Haven't seen you in ages. x'_

"What you doing?" Ryuk craned his ghastly smiling face over his shoulder. "Going on a date?"

"Something like that. My ex from To-oh, Kiyomi Takada. She texts me regularly, hoping to see me again. She's also expressed support for Kira on social media – Kiyomi's the perfect person."

"For what?"

Light smiled purposefully. "You'll see."

 **(gap)**

The meal with her work friends ended, and they drifted away from the entrance to the restaurant in twos and threes, chattering amiably. Light took Kiyomi's arm, and they walked slowly to his car.

"That was nice. Thanks for inviting me out."

"No problem." She squeezed his arm. "I'm glad you came."

"Hey, do you want to come back to mine for a bit? It's still early. We could chill for a while." Light gave her a winning smile.

"Sure."

Light made sure the drive was filled with intelligent, interesting conversation. He asked her about her new work life as a TV presenter, laughed and smiled and sighed in all the right places. It was simple to mention Kira, and establish her firm conviction in Kira's quest to rid the world of evil. Once she was settled on a deep blue armchair, he poured them both a drink, and handed one to her, chinking his glass against hers gently. He looked at her, letting his eye contact linger for just slightly too long, before looking away, as if nervous.

"What is it?" She asked softly. Kiyomi brushed her short black hair out of her eyes, and watched Light fumble for words. _I didn't think it was possible, but he's got even more handsome since university._

"The thing is Kiyomi-kun, I've missed you."

Kiyomi caught her breath. _Yes._ "Light-kun," she breathed.

"I thought it would be best for us to part, you know, because we were going off into our new lives, but I was wrong." Light's golden-brown eyes looked anguished. "I think about you all the time. I kept telling myself that I shouldn't meet up with you again, but I was totally wrong. Tonight's been the best thing that's happened to me in ages."

"Light-kun," she breathed again, and caught his chin with her delicate hand, raising his face so that he looked at her. He looked tormented, Kiyomi couldn't bear to see Light look that way. She leant forward and kissed him gently. Her body ached for the man she'd never stopped loving. "It's okay. I understand."

"Will you, will you be mine again? It's all that I want."

Kiyomi stroked his cheek gently. "I was angry at you for leaving. But I really do understand. Of course I'll be yours again – to be quite honest, I have always been yours. And I always will be."

Light leant in and kissed her hungrily. "Kiyomi-kun..." He took their drinks and set them down on the floor, moving off his seat to kneel between her legs. She edged forward to wrap her calves around his waist, and he let his hands trail down her back as they kissed passionately. He stood up, holding her securely around him, and carried her off to bed.

An hour or so later they lay naked on top of the duvet, and Light stroked her dark hair softly.

"Kiyomi-kun?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry to distract from the mood, but there's something playing on my mind."

She raised her head from his chest to look at him. "What is it?"

"I've been given this secret parcel to hide. It can't be anywhere that could be at all related to me or the police. It's a work thing, you know. I just don't know where to leave it that would be safe. It's really bugging me."

Kiyomi wandered her fingers across his firm chest. "Well, you can give it to me if you like. No one would think of looking at my place."

 _This is too easy_. "Really?" Light looked surprised. "I hadn't considered that. Would you really do that for me?"

"Of course. Just leave it with me."

"You're a life saver. It won't be for too long, don't worry." He raised his head, and kissed her forehead. "Let's get some sleep. We've both got work in the morning."

 _Thanks for reading = ]_


	26. Chapter 26: Surveillance, Spoons, Cake

_Hello reader = ] to the reviewer who asked for L and Rose to get it on, don't worry they'll get there eventually! Can't rush a build up ;) And to the reviewer who asked if L dies, I honestly haven't decided yet! SO here's the story. Hope you enjoy x_

Rose rang the buzzer for Light's apartment. It was early morning ,and Tokyo was just beginning to wake up. Eventually he answered sleepily. "Urgh, hello?"

"It's me, Emily. I've come to set up the stuff."

 _Shit, I didn't think she'd come so early._ "Oh yeah, sure. Head on up."

The door opened, and Rose climbed the stairs. When she entered, she was surprised to see a dark-haired, pretty girl with a pale heart-shaped face making coffee in the kitchen. She was wearing one of Light's shirts. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion at the sight of Rose.

"Who are you?"

"I could ask you the same question," Rose responded. The woman's eyes narrowed further.

Light hurried out of the bedroom. "Kiyomi-kun, this is Emily-kun, my work colleague. Sometimes she gets a lift to work with me. Emily-kun, I'm sure you remember me talking about Kiyomi-kun."

"Aah, right. From To-oh." _Why is Light seeing his ex again? That seems out of character, he's always ignored her invitations before._

"That's right."

Rose made polite small talk with Kiyomi whilst she drank her coffee. Soon Kiyomi returned to the bedroom, got dressed, and left, pecking Light on the lips.

"So that's a new development."

Light shrugged, and grinned a little guiltily. "I just realised I really did like her, you know? I realised that's the real reason I haven't been seeking out a new girlfriend."

 _I suppose that makes sense_. "Cool. I'm happy for you. Hey, put this bug in your car when you go will you?"

Light rolled his eyes. "Yes madame detective. I won't be able to breathe a word without you and L-san knowing."

"You better call him Ryuzaki-san."

"Of course. See you at work."

"See you." It only took Rose about an hour to fully coat the house in CCTV and wires. _Weird. This is exactly what L and Watari did to me. It's strange being on the other end._

 **(gap)**

Two work days passed. Rose returned home. Upon setting up surveillance over Light, L had pretty much not moved from his position staring at the screen.

"Light is making supper." He commented.

"How exciting." Rose busied herself making her own, leaving it to simmer as she checked the data-collection program. _That's odd._ "Hey, Ryuzaki-kun, there have been no Kira deaths today. They carried on yesterday, but none today."

"Really." L stroked his lip. "That makes Light-kun all the more suspicious. The ones dead yesterday would have been from the previous evening's news, before we started surveillance. Today, he would have had no input."

Rose sighed. "You're right that it makes his position more suspect, but there's a million other reasons that Kira could be taking a break today. You mustn't jump to conclusions."

"Emily-kun is right of course. I will keep my mind open."

 _Doesn't look like it,_ Rose thought. _You didn't even move your eyes from the screen for that entire conversation_. Her food was hot, and she poured it into a bowl and joined him on the sofa, crossing her legs. Watching Light through the CCTV was a bizarre experience. _It's like watching Big Brother._

"Hey you didn't watch ME this much, did you?" Rose joked. To her surprise, L shifted uncomfortably, pressing his toes together and nibbling his thumb.

"No."

"You're lying!" She gasped and pointed her chopsticks accusingly at him. "You DID watch me all the time!"

"No, to be precise I didn't watch you all the time. I had plenty of breaks."

"But you did watch me far more than you said you would!"

"That's true," he admitted.

"Terribly unethical," Rose reprimanded. She didn't really care. In fact she was kind of pleased.

"Ethics have never been my strongpoint. Could you pass me the strawberries?"

"Don't think you can change the subject that easily." She passed him the bowl of strawberries, and remembered her somewhat blasé shower in the second week of house arrest. "See anything you shouldn't have?"

L ate strawberries in silence for a minute, eyes still fixed on the video of Light, before mumbling something too quietly for Rose to hear.

"What was that?"

"Emily-kun is very aesthetically pleasing."

Rose grinned.

 **(gap)**

Kiyomi took the brown paper parcel out of her wardrobe. It had the word 'CONFIDENTIAL' written over it. _What could it be?_ _Oh I really want to know. It wouldn't be that difficult to open and reseal it, would it?_ With some hesitation she peeled the seal open, and pulled out a black mottled notebook with a letter tucked inside it. The letter was from Light.

' _My dear Kiyomi-kun,_

 _If you're reading this, it means that as I predicted, you've opened the parcel. That's one of the reasons I love you - you're strong-minded, independent, and curious. I felt too shy to tell you about this in person, but I'm certain you'll understand. For various reasons I can't continue my true calling right now. But I know that you could do it in my place until I can take up the mantel again. Together, we can become the gods of the new world, a world where no one commits crime, a world where honest people can live in peace. Use this notebook to continue my work – the times and the methods are all up to you. I love you, I trust you, I know you can do it. Do it for yourself, do it for me, but mostly do it for our world. Keep it and yourself safe, and when you've read this letter, burn it. I can't wait to see you again, but when we do we mustn't talk about this. It must remain our secret even when we think we're in private._

 _Thank you for being my goddess. Love, Light._

Kiyomi read the rules of the Death Note in wonder. _Can this really be true? My Light is Kira? Now that's amazing!_

 **(gap)**

Rose woke up five minutes before her alarm, as usual. Morning birds were chirping in the trees, but it wasn't quite daylight yet, she always woke up before the day in winter.

It was the seventh day of Light's surveillance, and she emerged from her bedroom to make breakfast. L was STILL crouching on the sofa watching Light. Rose sighed.

"Are you really still watching him? The killings have been happening for the last four days now, and Light's done absolutely nothing suspicious."

L pouted slightly, not turning from the computer. "I know, but still..."

"You're wasting your time. You should help me follow the other leads."

"He's ironing his shirt for work now. Doesn't it just slightly unnerve you how perfect he is? It can't be real." L brooded at the screen.

Rose felt a bubble of annoyance rise up inside her. "I know, but that means nothing!"

"But still-" Still he stared forward.

With only a moment's hesitation, Rose picked up a wooden spoon from the kitchen counter and threw it hard. It collided with the side of his head exactly, and he rubbed his head, turning round, looking confused.

"Why did you do that?"

"That's better! You haven't looked at me in seven days! Do you know how weird that feels, to be around someone for a whole week, and never look them in the eye?"

L shrugged.

"You're fixation on Light isn't going to help the investigation." Rose downed her coffee too fast, and it burnt her throat slightly. "I'm going to work early. See you later. Maybe you'll have come to your senses by then."

L watched her go, feeling an emotion he couldn't place. _I've done something wrong. If this is what having a friend is like, it's even harder than I expected. Am I fixated? But I simply can't shake this intuition that Light can't be trusted. I don't know..._

Rose strode to work unusually fast, still fuming a little. _He's going about the job all wrong. It's unprofessional, it's misguided, it's unnecessary._ She repeated to herself over and over again that it was a professional conflict of method that was bugging her. But on a deeper level, Rose knew she was lying to herself. If she'd cared to expose her real feelings, she'd have had to admit that the reason she was pissed off was that she was _jealous_ , jealous of Light having L's entire attention for a whole week. She could not have borne admitting to such a weak emotion. _No, it's creative differences. A methodological dispute. That is all._

 **(gap)**

As Light left Kiyomi's apartment that morning, he kissed her softly and handed a note over silently, putting a finger to his lips to tell her not to ask about it. He didn't have to worry about cameras when out of the house and police station, but he was still bugged. This was the day.

He couldn't be sure how much longer he'd be under surveillance for, and it was vital that Emily must die whilst he was still being watched.

"Good bye, I'll see you soon."

Light got into his car, grinning. Today Emily would die. L would have proof – his own surveillance – that Light could not have done it. Then L would have to live and investigate on his own with no contact with Light, and life would be a lot easier.

Several hours later, the clock ticked toward 3pm. Light covertly stared at his watch. Any second now, Emily would get up to get a coffee from across the road, and be hit by a truck. He'd miss her of course, but he had no choice really.

 _56\. 57. 58. 59..._

3pm came and went. Light stared at his watch in disbelief, cross referenced it with the time on his computer and the clock on the wall. _No, it's definitely correct. What's going on? Why didn't it work?_

Ryuk cackled. Light wished he could ask the shinigame why Emily hadn't died.

"Staring at your watch doesn't make time go faster, you know." Emily's voice interrupted his thoughts.

 _Damnit, she saw me_. "No, you're right." Light smiled. "I was just wondering if it were acceptable to take a break yet."

"Probably. If you go out, could you get me some fruit?"

"Sure." _Curse you Emily Stanton! Why can't I kill you?_

Rose worked in the police station later than usual. Still no one in the NPA had used their computers for anything at all suspiciously related to Kira, and she was beginning to wonder if the death of Nakamura had been a strong enough lead. She half-heartedly scrolled through the fraud case she was officially working on. It was nearly 7pm. _I should probably go home_. She wasn't really looking forward to interacting with her alien guest after her embarrassing display of anger this morning.

As she pushed open her door, a warm, mouth-watering, lemony smell greeted her. To her surprise, L wasn't on the sofa. It took her a good few seconds to locate him, crouched on the kitchen floor, gazing intently through the clear door of the oven. His black hair seemed to be dusted with something white. _What is that?_

L checked the time. "I thought you might be late," came his quiet, monotone voice. "I factored it into the process. Impeccable timing Emily-kun – it's ready."

"What's ready?"

He took a tea towel, and pulled out a baking tray with a large, golden-yellow cakey mass. Rose approached, and smelt the delicious hot air rising from the tray.

"Lemon cake!" She was a lot closer to him now, so when Rose turned to L she could see quite how much he was covered in flour. It was in his hair, on his t-shirt, all over the upper part of his jeans, and a couple of dusty white patches on his nose, cheeks and chin. She controlled her giggle. The flour was so incongruous with his serious expression. It was so good to see his eyes again, inky black, bottomless, paralysing.

"It's for you."

 _So this is him saying sorry, is it? Thank the lord. I thought he might not have enough social awareness to even realise he was pissing me off._ "I didn't know you could cook."

"I couldn't. But with a recipe and a basic understanding of the chemical properties of each ingredient it's very easy."

"Yes that's probably true. Thank you." Rose couldn't help laughing at his serious, floury face this time. "Hey, you're covered in flour."

She moved a step closer to brush the white dust softly out of his floppy hair, off his nose, his cheek, and his chin. The feeling of her fingertips sent a warm tingle through L's skin and all the way down his spine. He almost closed his eyes with the pleasure.

She stood back, satisfied. "That's better."

 _Touch me again,_ L pleaded in his mind. _Touch me again!_

But of course she couldn't hear that, and Rose moved away to find a knife to cut the cake, putting two big slices on plates. She swung herself up to sit on the side to eat it. Her eyes widened.

"Mmm, it's really good!"

"Well it was made by a genius, could you expect anything less?" He drawled.

Rose rolled her eyes. "From one like you, yes."

They finished their slices.

"Mmm, I've decided to do what you suggest and end the surveillance on Light-san. Even if he is Kira, it's clearly not getting us anywhere."

Rose breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

"Besides if he's working with us, I'll be able to keep a close eye on him anyway."

"True. I'll take it down tonight."

 _Thank you for taking the time to read this = ] Please favourite/follow if you like ma stooorrryy. Do review if you've got any comments! Peace x_


	27. Chapter 27: Sleep

_Thanks to those people to give me feedback, it's really good to hear = ] Without further ado, here it is... x_

The three sat in a line on the purple sofa. At the far end, L was attacking a banana. Sandwiched in the middle, Light sipped a coffee and examined the background checks they'd done on the other members of the NPA. Rose turned on the news to see what criminals would be reported today.

"Hmm," pondered Light. "This guy, Koki Ishikawa, could be the sort we're looking for. When he was a plumber, his children were brutally murdered. After that, he trained to become a member of the NPA, and has been working here ever since. A few years ago, he almost got suspended for rough treatment of an arrestee, but got out of it."

"Yesh," L said through mouthfuls of banana, "he's on our shortlist."

Light pointed out a couple more, and Rose confirmed they were also on the list.

"I'll get them followed," L stated. "I'm sure I could borrow a couple of FBI agents. They can work their way through the police force if the most likely suspects turn up nothing. And meanwhile-"

"-We should investigate the possibility of Kira not being connected to the police force," Rose finished for him.

L nodded. "It's possible that Nakamura's death was a coincidence after all."

 _Perfect,_ Light thought. "That's a good point. The thought had occurred to me too. So how should we go about that?"

"The biggest problem is that we don't know how he does it," Rose remarked. "If we knew what we were looking for then maybe we could find him."

They mulled it over for a while. L stabbed grapes with a fork.

"Ryuzaki-san, what's the matter?" Light enquired politely.

"This whole case, it's just frustrating," he said gloomily. "It's all so... elusive. Nothing makes any rational sense. It almost makes me think it's the work of some mystical being. But we all know they don't exist."

"I'm sure we'll work it out eventually," Rose encouraged.

"Woah, it's nearly midnight! I better be off home." _To kill some criminals, now I've got my Death Note back_. "I'll see you in the morning Emily-kun, see you in the evening Ryuzaki-san."

Light flopped on his bed on his back as usual, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

"Ryuk."

"Yeah?"

"The reason Emily-kun didn't die is because it's not her real name, right?"

"So you've figured it out," Ryuk leered.

"You wouldn't tell me her real name, would you."

"Nope."

"Not even for apples?"

"Not even for apples."

"I didn't think so. Argh!" Light said in frustration. "I can't kill EITHER of them!"

"You could always make the eye deal." Ryuk's eyes gleamed.

"I've told you before, it's not worth it to me. I want to have a long and prosperous reign."

"Well the offer's there."

 **(gap)**

 _Rose was walking through some trees. Off to her left was a large ornamental pond with ducks floating merrily on it. It looked nice in the sunshine. She went towards it, the grass soft on her feet. There were large blue flowers swaying in the breeze, and what looked like parrots in the bushes. An old lady was sitting on a bench in front of the pond, facing towards the water away from Rose. Rose approached happily, thinking of going paddling in the water. But as she did so, the woman's face came into view. It was an aged Ruth Fetter, the added years twisting her face into ghastly crinkles._

" _Come here girl," she croaked, "I haven't finished with you yet." She waved a blade dripping with blood in the air._

" _No!" Rose tried to move away, but her legs were sunk into the grass like into thick treacle. She dropped to her knees and tried to push herself out, but bits of the ground twisted up like vines to pull her further in, grabbing her by the legs, the arms, the wrists, the neck. "No!"_

 _Finally with all her might she managed to roll away into the shallow edge of the pond. She lay in the water, just beginning to feel relieved, when she realised that sitting all around her were them, the men who had 'looked after her' in her young teenage years, who had put her in the illegal sex trade._

" _Look what we have here, ey?"_

" _Yeah, she'd a fresh young thing. Look at that wavy chestnut hair, those big eyes."_

" _People will be clambering over each other to get a bit of this one."_

" _No parents, either. Easy."_

" _I wouldn't mind trying her myself to be honest." The first man began moving through the water towards her like an eel._

" _No no no no!"_

 _In the background she could hear the ancient Ruth Fetter cackling. She tried to move, but his hands were already on her shoulders gripping them tightly._

" _NO NO NO NO!"_

Something hit her round the face and she woke up with a start, panting with terror. L's hands held her shoulders, the look of utmost worry on his face.

"Don't touch me!" She shrieked.

He let go extremely quickly and backed away. "My apologies. You needed waking up somehow, you were screaming extremely loudly." He hovered awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

Rose sat up slowly, began to calm down her breathing, wiped the sweat from her face. _Or is it tears? Perhaps both_. After a minute or so she had regained a little composure.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to scare you. Or shout at you. I thought I was still in the dream."

"Nightmare," L corrected. His pale face was drawn with concern, he was nibbling his thumb. "I get them too, sometimes."

"I haven't had them nearly as much since my time with Josie."

"You still haven't told me about what you did before you joined the NPA."

"Would you like to know?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll tell you."

"Can I sit down?"

"Sure." Rose pulled the duvet up, and held it in a ball around her. L crouched on the bed below her feet. Rose told him all about Josie, the cats, learning to cook.

"That's nice."

"You're voice always sounds sarcastic, you know that?"

"I know." His eyes darted from her face, away and back again. "Would you prefer it if I left now?"

"No!" Rose said quickly. "I mean, not if you don't mind. I think I'll be more scared on my own."

"Okay." L scratched his head, and examined the ceiling. "Hmm, am I right that this is the sort of time where a friend gives their friend a hug?"

"I suppose this is that sort of time, yes. I won't scream at you this time, I promise," she added drily.

"Good, I'm not sure I could take much more of that."

L edged forward, pushed her bundle of duvet aside, and wrapped his arms around her. His nose in her hair, she smelt like coconut and almond and nutmeg. Rose was incredibly warm.

"When I have nightmares, it's usually about the death of my parents," he offered into her hair.

"Mm?" Rose muffled voice emerged from where her head was buried in L's chest. She could feel his heartbeat through her cheek. _Is he really actually telling me something about himself?_

"We were on a boat travelling from Norway to Scotland. As occasionally happens to boats, there was a huge storm." His voice was still dry and impassive, even now. "Somehow the engine failed, something wrong with the computer circuits controlling it, they could no longer control the boat, and it was sent swerving into some rocks not far from the most north-western Scottish islands. The boat was torn to pieces. All the while that the boat was spiralling out of control, the emergency bell rang. It was odd, it sounded more like a church bell than something that belonged on a boat.

So the boat hit the rocks and was torn almost in two. It started sinking, people understandably started bailing. My parents put me in a life boat with them. Everything was dark, they didn't know where they were going. The boat capsized in a matter of minutes. It was so cold. I knew I had to keep moving or I'd drown. Luckily I happened across the nearest island in under an hour. I dragged myself onto the pebble beach. There was no one else, not even any lights. I've never been so cold. I crouched there in the rain for hours until someone found me. A helicopter's infrared camera spotted me eventually."

Rose's heart tugged. "And let me guess, you've sat way ever since?"

"An excellent assessment Rose-kun."

She smiled into his shirt, loving the sound of her real name spoken aloud.

"I won't ask what you have nightmares about. I think I can probably guess," he said.

"Well you already know my whole life story, so I'm sure you can. Also, I think normally friends wouldn't hold a hug this long, you know?"

"I don't care."

Rose smiled even more at his bluntness. "Good."

"You can go back to sleep if you like. No demons will dare to cross me," he said confidently, pulling her tighter. "They can fucking try."

 _I don't think I've ever heard him swear before._ Rose wiggled around to get comfy, and L leant himself against the headboard underneath her.

"Goodnight," she mumbled wearily.

"Sleep well."

L felt her breathing gradually slow. _Hmm. I'm definitely not going to be able to sleep tonight_. He was wrong.

Sometime later, Rose felt herself rising up from a deep, sound, dreamless sleep. She was so warm and comfortable, curled up on her side. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt this comfortable before. _Mmm I could lie here forever._ As her consciousness resurfaced, Rose realised with a jolt that there was a body curled up around hers. She froze, not wishing to startle them. Two arms were wrapped around her waist, with slender, pale fingers resting on her bare hips in the gap between her pyjama trousers and top. Rose shivered, but definitely not from cold. _Those are L's hands._ Rose could feel his torso pressed against her back, his thighs tucked up beneath hers, a warm rhythmical breath caressing the back of her neck. Smiling to herself, she drifted back to sleep.

When she woke again, L had gone. Rose stretched like a satisfied cat. _I feel so well rested_. She checked the time, and leapt up in horror. "Jesus Christ, it's almost lunchtime!"

Scampering across the room, she threw on her police uniform in seconds, grabbed her bag and rushed out of the bedroom. L's head whipped round.

"Morning," he droned.

"Morning, it's basically the afternoon! I'm gonna be so late!"

Rose rushed out, and L shook his head to himself. Something had been plaguing him since he awoke. He heard Wammy's cautioning voice echoing in his ear. _I need to sort this out. Now._

 _Oh daymn, I wonder if you can guess what's gonna go down xD haha, shit's gonna get fucked uuup. Please fave/follow if you're keen on this, do review, I love hearing people's thoughts, it makes me genuinely smile! I'm going away for the weekend to a festival, so expect a post on Monday evening. I hope you have a splendid weekend. Peace x_


	28. Chapter 28: Downwards Spiral

_Okay I'm back – without further do, here's the next chapter, enjoy!_

Rose swung into her desk and tapped her computer awake.

"Where have you been?" Light asked.

"Overslept."

He raised his eyebrows. "Was that Ryuzaki-san related?"

"Sort of."

Light pondered his response. "You know Emily-kun, as your friend, I feel I should tell you to be careful."

Rose frowned. "Why?"

"Guys like him..."

"What do mean guys like him?"

"Well, frankly, high-functioning autistic guys, they find it very hard to relate to people normally. They don't understand how emotions and attachment work properly. Sure they have all the normal feelings, but they don't know how they should be expressed, and can't always read situations. Besides, he has a highly avoidant and quite narcissistic personality, and an overriding commitment to his job. If the situation arose, he'd choose his work over you. I wouldn't be surprised if when you weren't working together he'd just disappear. I just wanted to warn you, so it won't hit so hard when he hurts you."

Rose stabbed her desk with a pencil. "I know all those things about his personality," she said quietly. "Of course I do. But despite his avoidant tendencies, his self-absorption and work-fixation, and whether or not he's on the spectrum (which incidentally I doubt, it's my personal belief that the traits that indicate it have in fact been instilled in him by his dubious upbringing), I'm willing to give him the chance. It's just worth it to me."

Light smiled. "Well you sound like you really mean it." He squeezed her shoulder gently. "In that case, I fully support your decision. I just want you to know, I'll be here if you need me."

"Thanks, Light-kun."

Light turned back to his desk. _I hope I've read him right. If he acts like I predict he will, Emily-kun will be much easier to manipulate for the information I need._

As the working day ended, policemen and women dribbled out of the building slowly. Emily had already left, but Light had been busy filing away a complicated case, and was one of the last to leave. He popped the stapled pieces of paper into their file, and took it down the corridor to the records room for posterity. The corridor was empty. His feet echoed on the polished painted concrete floor. Once inside, he scanned the letters of the alphabet on the ends of the rows of filing cabinets to find the right place. _There we go._ Ryuk floated somewhere behind him.

"Saw how you were playing the concerned best friend at lunch," the shinigame growled. "Very convincing."

"Thanks."

"And I assume there's some kind of purpose to it?"

"Of course. I need a wedge to be driven between them. The more alone and upset Emily-kun is , the more she will turn to me. And the more likely it is that she'll tell me things."

"What sort of things?"

"Her real name, maybe his real name, anything about her or his pasts that help me to work out who they are. They must die. I HAVE to learn their names somehow."

"STOP RIGHT THERE!"

Light jumped in shock as a figure came round the end of the row of filing cabinets. _Shit. We weren't alone. This is not good at all_.

"Oh hey there Mogi-san," Light said amiably.

"Don't put that innocent voice on, I heard what you just said." The big man stared incredulously. "You're planning to kill Stanton-san! This has to be Kira related." He reached for his phone.

"Wait," Light said quickly, "before you do that, think about what you're saying. You're jumping to conclusions, hear me out first."

"Jumping to conclusions? I heard what I heard!" He reached for his phone again.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Light's voice was deadly this time. The older man froze at the cold brutality of that voice. "Think about it. If I AM Kira, then using that phone is a good as making a death wish, for you and whoever you call. And if I'm not, you're causing a hell of a lot of trouble for no reason."

Mogi gaped. Had Chief Yagame's son always been this commanding?

"Please Mogi-san, allow me to write you a note. It will explain everything to your satisfaction, I promise."

The young man flicked his shining hair out of his eyes, drew a piece of paper out of his wallet and scribbled something on it. Then he looked at his watch calmly. _What's going on?_ Mogi thought in confusion.

 _49\. 50. 51. 52._..

At exactly 18:36pm, Mogi's power of will left him forever. He turned around blankly, and padded slowly to the door.

"Where are you going, Mogi-san?" Taunted Light Yagame. Mogi didn't care.

"I've got things to do."

Light shuddered with dangerous laughter as he left, felt the power of the gods of death rippling through him. He looked down at the scrap of paper with satisfaction.

 _Kanso Mogi, 18:36pm. Goes to the empty security room, destroys all CCTV hardware and software, so that no surveillance data is available for the police department for the entire past day at least. He does nothing else before he kills himself._

 **(gap)**

L paced the kitchen broodingly. _This is not good. My brain is distracted. I've not managed to concentrate on the case for at least a third of today. I cannot continue to allow myself to be this distracted. Without 100% of my mental power focussed on Kira, I will not be able to catch him, I will be fooled by him. When did I get so unprofessional? I must admit, there is a small part of me that wishes I could have a normal life now and just embrace it. But this is not the time. I have duties that I cannot simply drop. No, if anything must drop, it's this distraction. I must remove her from my mind._

He heard the door to the flat click open.

"Evening," Rose said, smiling.

L felt a horrible pain in his chest. But he squashed it.

"Emily-kun, I've been thinking a lot today. I'm aware that we've become somewhat closer to each other lately, and I'm aware that that was partly my instigation. I apologise for doing so. I've come to the conclusion that it would be highly improper for us to engage in any sort of relationship beyond being colleagues."

Rose didn't move a muscle. _Light was right. Fuck, he was right._

"You see if we did allow ourselves to develop feelings for each other, we would not be able to concentrate our entire energies on the case. A case like this needs 100% attention. Furthermore, if one of us were to ever be captured or threatened by Kira, it is essential that the blackmailed party would not give in to his requests out of attachment to the other. If such a scenario were to arise, it is crucial that we would protect the interests of the world and work to stop Kira, rather than be swayed by amorous feelings to protect each other. Do you understand?"

Rose nodded. She'd summoned up her best mask, and was certain her face was as blank as his. "I understand perfectly," she replied emotionlessly. "You could not have come to a more logical conclusion. In fact, I'd been thinking the exact same thing."

"Good. That's settled then."

 _Light was right._ Rose commanded her body to move and mechanically made a cup of tea. The containment wouldn't last forever, but she could keep it going for a while. She opened her laptop, and spluttered on her tea.

"The CCTV's all down at the police station!" _Feelings can wait. Just focus on this and deal with that later._

"What?" L checked her screen. "We need to get down there."

At that moment, Light knocked on the door, and L let him in.

"Hey guys," he smiled amiably, then looked concerned when he saw their faces. "What's going on?"

"The CCTV is all down at the police station."

"Really?" Light peered over her shoulder. "Shit, why do you reckon that is?"

"I don't know Light-san, why IS that." L approached Light very close and eyeballed him hard. "You're the one that just left there."

"It all seemed normal when I left. I suppose we better get down there."

L stared at him hard for another moment. "Yes," he said eventually. "You two go."

Minutes later Light's car pulled up outside the station, Rose and Light leapt out and dashed into the building.

"I suppose the rational place to look is the security department."

"Yes. Let's proceed with caution. We don't know what's going on here – worst case scenario is that Kira is actually here."

Light and Rose took the lift, emerged on the second floor with caution, began treading slowly down the corridor. All seemed deserted.

"Okay," Rose whispered. "Let's head to the camera room. Be careful, Light-kun," she added, as he took the lead. As they approached the door, he looked back at her questioningly.

Rose nodded. "Open it."

Light flung the door open and gasped. Rose edged in behind him.

All the CCTV equipment had been smashed. Pieces of glass, plastic, metal and wire lay scattered across the desks and the floor. The hard-drives were decimated. And hanging sinisterly in the air was Mogi, a tangle of computer wires around his neck attached to some joist in the ceiling. His face was purple and bloated, ghastly.

"Urgh." Rose looked away.

"Oh god this is horrible." Light dropped to his knees, hiding his face. _I should probably stay like this for at least 30 seconds._ After that time passed, he reached for his phone. "I'll ring my father, he needs to know what's going on."

Light informed his father of the situation. When he focused back on the room, he found Emily was crying.

"Emily-kun!"

Rose felt Light take her in his arms and sobbed into his shoulder.

"I know, I know. It's horrific isn't it."

"It's not that," she hiccupped, "you were right Light-kun, about Ryuzaki-kun, you were right."

Light squeezed her tighter, and contained his smile. _Thank you Ryuzaki, L, you couldn't have behaved more predictably._ "I'm so sorry Emily-kun. I'm sorry it didn't work out. I'm here for you."

Eventually Soichiro Yagame arrived, and they handed the scene over to the forensics. Rose knew there was no point, but she let it happen, watching the whole thing unfolded detachedly. Soichiro approached.

"This was Kira related wasn't it," he said, in a heavy quiet voice.

"Yes, I think so." Rose shook her head hopelessly. "I don't know what to do, Chief. Whatever we try and do, Kira always seems two steps ahead."

Soichiro patted her on the back awkwardly. "Just do what you can, Stanton-san," he said gruffly. "Also... is my son's name cleared yet?"

"I honestly don't know."

"Hey, Emily-kun?"

It was Light. "Yes?"

"I'll meet you back at yours, I promised I'd meet Kiyomi for a date, but I'll cut it short and come work on the case with you as soon as I can."

"Sure," Rose replied passively. _Whatever. Do what you like, I don't care._

She dawdled home slowly. Everything felt heavy and difficult. _Must get my emotion out of the way. When I'm back in there, I need to look normal._ By the time she approached the door, her mask was perfect.

"So what happened?" he asked instantly.

"Mogi-san smashed all the CCTV equipment and hung himself with computer wires."

L frowned. "I can only think this is Kira. Does this mean he can kill in other ways than a heart attack?"

"I expect so."

"But before he's only ever killed by heart attacks. By choice, if it is true that he can choose the method. That means something forced his hand, he was put in a position where he had to make a death happen quickly, and in a way that seems unrelated to him."

"Those were my thoughts too. Something must have happened between Kira and Mogi-san."

At that moment, Light knocked on the door, and as Rose let him in, L jumped up off the sofa.

"Light Yagame-san, what were you doing at the police station before you left?" He approached the golden-eyed man slowly.

"I was writing up and filing away a case. It took longer than expected, I took it to the records room, filed it away, and then left the building at about half past six and came here. What's this about Ryuzaki-san?"

"You only returned from the police station after Mogi-san's death. And you can't get beyond the foyer without a police ID, am I right Emily-kun?"

"That's correct."

"Which puts suspicion plainly back onto a member of the NPA. Which according to our previous analyses, puts suspicion plainly back on you, Light Yagame-san. I think that Mogi-san may have found out something he wasn't supposed to." L was very close to him, probing Light's face with an unblinking stare.

"Oh come on, you don't still suspect me? I don't see how Mogi-san's death implicates me at all? You don't even know that his death was caused by Kira, Mogi-san could have easily be acting off his own back. Stop jumping to conclusions."

"All that being said, I don't trust you Light-san. I would prefer it if you never left my sight."

"Fine! If that's what it takes, do it!"

"Hang on Ryuzaki-kun," Rose interjected, "what about work?"

"Light-san will have to make his excuses. He will stay here with me now. You can, say you're ill, or depressed, or something."

Rose looked at Light. He looked conflicted, but determined. "If that's what it takes. And if that's alright with you, Emily-kun."

Rose shrugged. "Whatever." _To be honest, that's very useful. Now I won't have to spend any time alone with L._

Light cursed in his mind. _Now I probably won't be able to get Emily alone to question her. Oh well. I don't think I have a choice in this. Thank god I got the notebook to Kiyomi first._ He heard Ryuk cackle behind him.

"This is going to be VERY interesting."

 _Ooh haha sorry everything's gone tits up again for them now xD please do fave/follow/review, it's great to know people's opinions, positive and negative = ] thanks for reading._


	29. Chapter 29: Friction

_Thanks to Kuramasgal2006 for pointing out that I was spelling Yagami wrong! It shall be correct from now on. Here's another chapter. My brain's been very fuzzy today, but got the words out somehow. I hope you enjoy!_

Three days passed. Rose woke from a painfully short sleep, and checked the time. _Just gone 5am. Might as well get up_. She dressed slowly, and opened her door. The curtains were still closed. Light was curled up on one end of the sofa under a duvet, attached to L by a long chain with handcuffs at either end. When he'd said he would never let Light out of his sight, he'd certainly meant it. The only illumination in the room was a small lamp and the white glow from L's computer emanating from behind his dark head.

"Good morning Emily-kun."

"Good morning."

Rose made coffee, ate some toast in silence, brushed her teeth in the bathroom, emerged again to put her shoes on.

"Where are you going?"

"To the park to train."

L watched her pull her shoes on and lace them up, reach for her coat. "Emily-kun..."

"What?"

He faltered at her stony, expressionless face. _I didn't think anyone could do that face as well as me._ "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"Good."

Rose left. L bit his thumb, trying to quiet the voices warring in his mind. _You've done the right thing. It's fine. Your actions were necessary. As it has always been and always will be, your work must come first._ And on the other side: _well done, idiot. You've just rejected the best thing in your life, and look how far it's got you. Really concentrating on the case well, aren't we? Now you're thinking about her more than ever. You're also alone. Alone. ALONE._

 **(gap)**

Several more days passed. It was the weekend, and Rose had been in the bath for almost an hour and a half. She'd already topped up the hot water once. Piles of bubble-bath floated around her like ethereal icebergs, the whole room was as steamy as a sauna. With no work to go to at the weekend she had to avoid being in the living room somehow, for Light and L were getting somewhat intolerable. Some of the time they would discuss something so intently that it was like nothing else in the world existed for them, some of the time they fought and bickered and griped at each other like (highly intelligent) sibling toddlers. They were both just so _talkative._ Light and L may have been Rose's only two friends, but with both of them always there creating a constant wave of communication, she longed for the days when she'd lived on her own. _Or at least a couple of days alone, that would do._

"Urrh, Emily-kun?" Light's voice came muffled through the bathroom door.

"Yes?"

"I could do with going to the lavatory soon, when are you going to be finished?"

Rose groaned. _I can't get away with staying in here much longer then._ "Soon, don't worry."

"Thanks."

Reluctantly she pulled out the plug, stepped out and dried herself, wrapping a red towel around her body. Rose opened the door.

"Bathroom's free."

Light got back up from the sofa, tugging L up behind him. L followed the chain recalcitrantly. _This has to be the most annoying part of this whole arrangement._ Rose stepped out of the door and headed for her bedroom. Her hair hung in dripping locks, dark from the water, her skin was pink and soft-looking. L couldn't help his eyes wandering over her bare legs, shoulders, neck, lips... He caught her eye by accident, and Rose gave him the tiniest of pointed stares. Looking away hurriedly, he was pulled into the bathroom by the chain.

Rose growled to herself as she got dressed. She felt satisfied, frustrated, angered all at once. _How dare he look at me that way after what he said. How dare he make me have some hope that he didn't really mean it. That's not fair. And there's nothing I can do about it._

When she emerged again, L and Light were bickering once more.

"The killings have been happening for over a week!" Light moaned.

"I am entirely aware of that fact."

"Then what's your problem? Isn't it evident that I'm not Kira?"

"No, in fact the more time I spend with you, the more certain I am that you could be Kira."

"What are you trying to say? You really think I could be a mass murderer?"

"Yes, I do."

Light's face danced with hurt and rage. "I can't believe you think that! When I really consider you to be a friend, Ryuzaki-kun."

"I consider you to be a friend too, Light-kun."

"Friends have to trust each other, don't you know anything about interpersonal relationships?"

"Not much, but in my opinion, liking someone as a friend and thinking they have the capacity to kill people are not 100% mutually exclusive, they're just unlikely as a pair of conjunct propositions."

"Ryuzaki-kun?"

"Yes?" As L turned to look at him, Light's fist collided heavily into his face, and unprepared, L fell off the sofa with a cry. Rose's face twitched with a smile. _Nice one Light. To be honest, I've been wanting to do that for days._ Things were not over however, for out of nowhere L's bare foot crashed into Light's head, sending him flying backwards over the arm of the sofa.

L felt himself be wrenched forward and clenched his teeth in pain. The pain didn't bother him however – he kind of relished it at that moment. It felt like that physical pain was the only thing to successfully rip through his stony exoskeleton to the roiling mass of emotion locked inside, and finally release some of it, bits of anger, guilt, shame, confusion, loneliness and fear flowing out of the wounded parts of his body.

"Go on Light-kun, hit me again, I dare you," he taunted. "I'm a lot stronger than I look you know, I'll definitely beat you."

Light roared in frustration, and the two young men flew at each other like rutting stag deer or boxing kangaroos fighting for females, unmercifully. Rose sighed. _This is getting out of hand._ Stepping near carefully, she grabbed the chain in the middle and yanked it hard so that both fell over. Two pairs of surprised eyes stared up at her from the floor, and she dragged them by the chain across the floor back towards the sofa.

"Grow up, you two!" She stood over them threateningly, hand on her hips. "You're making me be your mother. This is not what I want to be doing! And it's a waste of everyone's time."

The men/boys nodded, shamefaced.

"Don't think you're the only one's getting pissed off at having to live in such close proximity to each other! I may not be attached to the chain, but this is pretty much as annoying for me as it is for you, and you don't see ME squabbling all day! Get over it."

"Sorry Emily-kun," Light mumbled, touching his sore face gently. "Ow."

"Yes. You're right," L agreed, rising and hopping back onto the sofa.

Rose checked her computer. "Still nothing on the data tracking. What about the FBI agents Ryuzaki-kun?"

"Nothing. They followed our list of most likely suspects last week, and the next most likely this week and have discovered nothing. And yet Light-kun is here and couldn't have done anything either. Unless of course Light-kun passed Kira's power to another."

Light began to protest irritably, but Rose cut him off. "Don't rise to the bait, Light-kun. And you KNOW it's a possibility we must consider."

"Exactly. And whilst we on the subject, Emily-kun didn't you say that Light-kun recently acquired a girlfriend?"

"That's correct. I assume you think I should go and check her apartment – I was thinking it myself."

"Yes, I was," L acknowledged.

"What time does Takada-san go to work?"

"About 8am I think," Light replied reluctantly. _I hope she's only been using single pages like I told her to._

The next morning Rose approached Takada's house. As Light had informed her, it had a burglar alarm and he didn't know the code, so she'd have to deal with that first. Luckily her criminal days in England had more than equipped her for the job, so Rose picked the front door lock with confidence. The alarm box beeped quietly, counting down, waiting for the arrival to enter the code. _I've probably got about one minute._ Rose unscrewed the wall mounting and cover, and quickly examined the mechanism inside. _Simple enough._ It only took bypassing a certain connection with an extra wire to fool the machine into thinking that everything was fine.

Roaming the small house, Rose peered around, behind, and into everything. There was nothing incriminating in any usual places, and no sign of secret hiding places. Kiyomi Takada seemed like a normal, sophisticated woman, albeit one with a certain degree of fame and money, and so after a couple of hours Rose left for work.

A while later Chief Yagami called her into his office. His strong masculine face was set with a bit of a frown, and as Rose entered he entwined his fingers together and cleared his throat.

"Stanton-san, when will Light-kun be able to come back to work? Surely his name must be cleared by now."

"It's looking better in his favour, definitely," Rose acknowledged. "Though I doubt L is entirely satisfied."

"I'm not sure how much longer people are going to believe that he's ill. And if he's not back before the yearly department party at the end of the week people are bound to ask awkward questions. Besides, we his family miss him."

Rose nodded in sympathy. "I'll make sure he's back before then."

"Thank you."

When she arrived home, she announced the deadline. "Come on Ryuzaki-kun, don't you think having Light-kun here for nearly three weeks will prove it enough? The killings haven't changed a bit."

L sighed. What Rose said made total sense. _I just hate the thought that my intuition was wrong_. "It will have to do. As long as Takada-san is bugged for the remaining few days. If we hear nothing suspicious by Friday, then Light-kun is free to go."

Light beamed. "That's fine with me."

Five days came and went, uneventfully. When Rose got home L undid the handcuffs, and both men stood gingerly touching their sore wrists. Light felt full of power. _I'm winning, I'm winning!_ _Now I'm free to find out your names._

"Well thank god that's over. I'm so happy that my friends no longer think I'm a murderer," Light said somewhat drily.

"You're in the grey," L responded even more drily.

"I'm going to go home and get ready for the department party. I'll pick you up in an hour or so, Emily-kun."

"Sure, see you then."

L examined his chafed arm despondently. _I'm losing. Are you not Kira, Light-kun?_

 _Party time next chapter xD What did you think? Please do let me know. Thanks for reading, old and new people, especially to those three or four people who review regularly, it means a lot to me! Have a nice evening x_


	30. Chapter 30: Jealousy

_So this is a nice long chapter, enjoy! I had lots of fun writing this one, hope it's good to read._

Rose carefully applied a 'going out' costume. It was one of the first times she'd had to do since leaving England, and it felt like she'd almost forgotten how makeup worked. It took quite a long time to get it right. Sheer black tights, a dark green dress, long black coat, silver necklace, green shoes. _Ready._ Exiting to the kitchen, she rummaged in the cupboards for alcohol. _Sake? Hmm maybe something stronger. Maybe Shochu._

"Emily-kun is getting drunk," L observed, hugging his knees.

"Mmhmm. Want some?"

"No, thank you."

"Suit yourself."

"Is Emily-kun looking forward to going out?"

"Sort of, it'll be good to leave to house. I don't reckon it'll be as bad as it used to be – police detectives are on the whole more interesting people than people in the media, so it should be more bearable. Plus alcohol smoothes everything over. And of course", she added, "I'll have Light-kun with me, so I won't get bored."

"Of course. Light-kun is excellent company."

Rose had no idea if he was being sarcastic or serious, so she poured a second shot of Shochu to avoid replying. As if right on cue, it was at that moment that Light knocked on the door.

"Light-kun! He's looking incredibly handsome, don't you think Ryuzaki-kun?"

"Not as lovely as you're looking Emily-kun, I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress before. Absolutely stunning, don't you think Ryuzaki-kun?"

L nodded, unable to keep his mouth from down-turning significantly, his jaw setting. "You're both looking wonderful." He meant it. Light's hair was even more satin-smooth and gleaming dark copper than usual, perfectly sculpted around his pale face. The deep blue suit was precisely tailored to his size, the sleeves the perfect length, the waist the perfect width, highlighting his broad shoulders, well-shaped chest, and flat stomach. His big almond shaped eyes glowed with lazy confidence, his mouth curled in a controlled smile.

"Shochu, Light-kun?"

"Sure."

Next to him stood Rose, half of her thick wavy hair tied up, the rest free-flowing over her shoulders. There was something about dresses that made people curve in all the right places. Even with the scar over her shoulder and the two missing fingers, she looked disarmingly elegant. In fact, it probably made her look better. It made her beautiful _and_ dangerous.

"Shall we go then?"

"I reckon so. See you later Ryuzaki-kun."

"Have a lovely evening."

 _Now he was definitely being sarcastic that time,_ Rose thought, and took Light's arm.

As they left arm in arm, L felt a sick, empty feeling grow in his stomach. _Stop caring. You're fully aware they're only friends. Whether they are or not shouldn't matter anyway, you've made your choice. Squash this feeling._

He stared out of the window and watched Light's car pulled smoothly away. The flat was eerily quiet, just the fridge hummed. Wandering to it, he pulled out a punnet of strawberries and devoured them all stood between the kitchen units. But not even strawberries made the sick hollowness go away. As he turned around, wondering what to do, his eyes caught the Shochu bottle on the side. As if his arm had a mind of its own, it reached towards the bottle slowly and picked it up.

 **(gap)**

The NPA had rented out a large, pleasantly decorated function room. There were long wooden tables covered in a myriad dishes of grilled fish, rice with all sorts of things, pickled vegetables, sushi, sashimi, tempura, all sorts of soya-base soups and stews, and sea-weed based salads. Dressed-up police agents wandered about, chatting and laughing, debating and flirting.

"Light! Stanton-san!" Soichiro Yagami waved them over enthusiastically, his grey suit blazer held over his arm. They approached, and Soichiro hugged them both warmly. "It's so good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Dad."

"Hey Light-kun, you're back!"

It was Touta Matsuda, grinning happily. Together they settled down at the end of one of the wooden tables, and groups of people did the same around them. The food was good, they all chatted easily, sake flowed, and made the conversation flow even more easily. Once the food was gone the music was turned up. The more energetic and confident people danced, the quieter, lazier or shier people sat around the edges watching or talking. Rose and Light did a mixture of both, and were reasonably entertained for a while. But eventually the beat of the music began to annoy rather than please Rose's ears, and she could no longer focus on what people were saying to her.

"Hey Light-kun can we go outside for a bit?"

"Okay."

He passed over her black coat, and they went to sit on the concrete steps outside of the venue. A few people wandered past, but the street was nice and quiet, and refreshingly cold after the warmness indoors. They still had their cups of sake, and sipped them in silence for a minute.

"Hey Emily-kun, can I ask you a question? You don't have to answer."

"Go for it."

Light took a moment to ponder his words. "I haven't brought it up before, but I've been thinking this for a while. Now, I'm know you're not stupid. Which begs the question, why haven't you made sure your name is inaccessible like Ryuzaki-kun does? You had my father tell the police force that you were working with L, whilst suspecting the police force, so you must have been totally confident that Kira wouldn't be able to kill you. Which must mean, Emily Stanton isn't your real name. I of course, knew I was going to be fine, because you didn't tell the police force I was involved."

 _I did actually,_ Rose remembered suddenly, _I just forgot to tell you I did._ _Oh. That actually changes things somewhat. Because if Light WASN'T Kira, surely he'd have been killed by now?_ _Shit L, you may have been right all along. I must proceed with caution._

"Yes, that's correct," Rose admitted. "Emily Stanton does not really exist."

"So you came to Japan with a fake identity, before the Kira case even started," Light pulled a face. "Do you see how suspicious that makes you look? God, if my father found out."

"Well he won't if you don't tell him," Rose teased.

"So I presume Ryuzaki-kun knows?"

"Yes."

"Obviously I won't ask for your name. In the circumstances you'd be a fool to tell that even to your best friend."

"I would."

"But could you tell me who you were before? Like, what you did, why you needed an alias, all of that. It makes me feel like I still don't know you Emily-kun or whoever you are, you don't know how weird that feels. You've lied to me for months."

 _Could that play of emotion and pain on his face really be a lie? I've known him for three quarters of year. If this a lie, then anything he's ever said to me could be a lie. It can't be, can it?_ _Let's give it a little test, see if his mask slips at all_. _If there is even a mask. Oh god, I don't know._

"Okay," Rose said deliberatively. "I'll tell you a couple of things if you promise not to share it with anyone at all."

"I promise."

"I used to be a life-long criminal."

Rose watched the words hit her friend. A visible wave of shock flowed through him as the information registered.

"Wow. I guess that gives you even more reason to want to stop Kira."

"A little. Mostly because he killed a man that was like a father to me, a computer hacker that cared for me when I was a teen."

"I see. And that's where you get your crazy computer skills from."

"Yep."

Light shook his head in disbelief. "And Ryuzaki-kun knows all of this too?" Rose nodded. "Surely you'd have been enemies in England?"

Rose laughed. "We were. I was effectively his mirror in the underworld, a criminal detective."

"So how come you're on the same side now? How come he trusts you at all?"

"Certain... things happened." Rose waved her lack of fingers in the air. "Remember these? Well, that's what it took."

Light gasped. "He didn't-"

"No no," Rose cut in quickly, "it wasn't him. But it took letting it happen for him to believe I wouldn't betray him."

"Wow." Light shook his head again. "You really do like him, don't you."

"Please stop reminding me!" Rose pushed him playfully. _So let's watch this reaction_. "So there you have it," she said with an air of finality. "That's why I know I'm as safe as Ryuzaki-kun. Actually, more safe."

"More safe? How so?"

"Because there's a chance that Ryuzaki-kun's real name is recorded officially somewhere still. But mine isn't recorded _anywhere_ – I was born off the record. It's literally impossible for Kira to discover it without getting the information of out me or Ryuzaki-kun."

"That's perfect!"

Rose watched his face carefully. _Was that an infinitesimally small flicker of disappointment before the pleased expression? It's so hard to tell._ Doubt plagued her mind. Suddenly being in the company of Light was more uncertainty than she could bear. "Well, I think I'm going to walk home now."

"Walk? It's a couple of miles to yours. Won't you wait for me to sober up a bit and give you a lift?"

"Nah, I want to walk. I love walking."

"Okay, if you're sure." Light smiled at her and gave her a comforting hug goodbye, and Rose felt even more conflicted. _Who are you, Light? Who are you?_

Light watched her figure recede into shadow at the far end of the street, and began shaking with rage. He sat back down upon the step heavily. "Argh, it's no good! I can't possibly learn their names by any normal means!"

Ryuk cackled, and did a little back flip in the air. "As I've said before, my offer's still there." His demonic eyes glowed.

Light rested his face in his hands. "I've not got that many more options." _Has it really come to this? There's got to be another way._ He calmed his mind, and thought about it for a little while. "What do you reckon Ryuk – do you reckon Kiyomi-kun would do the eye deal?"

"No idea."

"Well it might be worth a try." Light sighed, and stood up. "I'll go there when this is over." Arranging his face as sociable-charming-Light, he returned to the bright, loud room.

 **(gap)**

Rose meandered towards her home. It was cold. Where there was vegetation the leaves shone with frost, and where there were puddles on the road they had turned to ice. The alcohol and her long black coat kept Rose nicely warm, however, as she dipped in and out of the circles of light projected by the streetlamps. _I don't even know how I feel._ Rose was full of doubt, confusion, uncertainty. _It feels like the ground beneath me has sort of, slipped away. First L, then Light... I just can't really trust either, can I? One is too stubborn and brain-washed into his job to love me, and the other could potentially be the most eloquent, homicidal sociopath the world has ever seen. Why did these have to be the only people I care about?_

After about 1.7 miles, Rose turned into the park where she had been training recently. The majestic bare-branched skeletons of cherry, maple, and acer trees lined the walkways and the little ponds. It was a good park in Rose's eyes, that adhered to the ideal of Japanese minimalism perfectly. She took the main path that snaked diagonally through the middle, passing between the two ponds and the ornamental flower beds that surrounded them, and coming out the other side.

Out of the still silence she heard twigs crack off to her right in the darkness between some cherry trees, and Rose whipped round, stiffening into a defensive stance automatically.

"This is where you come to train, am I right?"

From out of the darkness weaved a familiar hunched figure matching the familiar monotone voice, black hair fanning out in a dishevelled manner. Except his face looked softer, wilder, more expressive than usual.

"That's right."

"Pretty obvious, being as it's the nearest by 0.27 miles. Though I also know that you like to train in quite a secluded spot ideally, and this has the perfect place, that grassy hollow behind the acers, that's where you go, yes?"

"Correct." He had approached closer now, and Rose saw that he was still just in the long white t-shirt and jeans, and his feet were still bare. "Ryuzaki-kun, it's frosty! You're gonna freeze to death of cold."

"Cold? What's cold? Ryuzaki's feel cold." His black eyes flashed darkly, and he stumbled to the left slightly. It was only at that moment that Rose caught sight of the almost empty bottle in his hand.

"You're drunk!"

"Well, everyone else was doing it. Thought I might get in the festive spirit," he drawled.

"Give me that, being drunk is making you more sarcastic." Rose took the bottle, and took a generous swig. It burned her throat pleasantly. "Mmm. So what are you doing skulking around in the dark?"

"Cabin fever. Yes, even I get bored of the same room eventually." L's mouth lifted slightly in a slightly dazed smile. "Does Emily Stanton like climbing?"

"Climbing?"

He flicked his eyes in the direction of the nearest cherry tree. "Race you to the top!" L darted towards it.

"That's not fair, I'm in a dress!" But Rose could never turn down a challenge. She put the bottle in her coat pocket, hitched up the dress, and swung her leg up to the first branch. Above her, L was swinging lithely up the tree like a particularly elegant lemur. "Where did you learn to climb trees?"

"There were lots of good trees at Wammy's," he called down to her. "It was the only place I could go outside where people wouldn't be able to get to me."

The branches were somewhat indistinct in the darkness, only illuminated slightly by the streetlights below and the stars above, but Rose had good vision, and began to catch up with L. He reached the last feasible branch to climb only just before she did.

"If you didn't have a head start, I'd have definitely won," she huffed.

"If you say so."

It turned out it was actually a lot harder climbing down than up, taking twice as long easily. As he reached the bottom, L's foot slipped on the final branch and fell in an ungainly heap on the floor.

"Ow."

Rose swung herself down and kneeled beside him, trying not to laugh. "Are you okay?"

"Never been better." He rolled over onto his back. Her smiling face made him feel twice as drunk, and twice as frustrated.

Rose hadn't expected his eyes to be so full of feeling, his mouth so tense.

"Did you have a good time with Light-kun?"

 _So THAT'S what the emotion is._ "You're jealous!"

"No."

"Don't lie. You have NO right to act jealous after what you said to me."

L sat up, brushed the hair out of his face. "I did what I had to, not what I wanted to."

Rose stood up, angered and confused by his words, and he followed suit. "Why are you saying that? When tomorrow when you've sobered up and come to your senses it'll be like you're a million miles away again." She leant against the cherry tree. L's face twisted around for a few moments, as he tried to work out what he should do.

"I'm saying it because I was, I was... wrong!" Even in this moment he could barely spit out the acknowledgment of his failure. Rose realised with a jolt that he'd swapped back to speaking in English. "I thought I could box this up like everything else, compartmentalise and forget about it, at least put it on hold. But I was wrong." He moved nearer, leant his hands against the tree either side of her shoulders, gazing at her. Rose could make out every sweeping eyelash even in the semi-darkness, could see the pinkness of his lips, could see that black fire burning in his eyes like deep wells of oil filled with a roiling inferno. "I thought moving apart would make things easier, but my thoughts are still consumed by you. The only difference is that now I'm angry and sad as well as distracted. It's been an abject failure."

He hesitantly moved his hand to her face, stroked her cheek lightly with his fingers, stroked her bottom lip, pulling it gently away from the top lip. Her mouth parted involuntarily, it sent shudders of sensation ripple through her. "Rose..." he breathed. "I want you. I can't help it."

With great difficulty Rose gathered her willpower and pushed him off, rounding on him so L was the one against the tree. She mirrored him, placing her hands on the trunk either side of his shoulders, speaking in English. The language felt unfamiliar and homely all at once, after so many months. "Don't you dare," she spoke softly, "think you can decide you want me, then you don't want me, then you do want me, and expect me to comply to your whims. You may have been taught for most of your life that you're the centre of the universe and everyone will do what you say, but it's not true, L. It's not true with me, at least."

Rose's eyes flashed dangerously. She had always seemed feline to L, with those large hazel eyes and strong, lithe movements, but this time she was a leopard or a tiger, not a tameable cat. He quivered before the force emanating from her.

Rose took a hand off the tree and moved it under the bottom of his t-shirt, gently touching his lower back, reaching up to feel his shoulder blades, before moving it back down and round his thin waist, over his pronounced hip bone, feeling the taut skin that stretched flatly over his stomach, and up again to run her fingers over his chest. _So smooth. I didn't expect him to be toned at all, but he is. How is that even possible?_ Rose felt with satisfaction the shuddering of his breath and the racing of his heart beneath her hand, saw the longing in his eyes.

"If you genuinely want me," she purred, "then you're going to have to make a genuine commitment, one that I can believe. Or I'll never go near you again. Understand?"

L nodded, incapable of words. _I've never felt so entranced._

Rose's eyes lingered over his face, just inches from hers. _He wants me after all! I wish I could kiss him. But this is not the time._ She stood back, and smiled a small smile. "Take a bit of time to make your decision, I don't want to rush you. Tell me when you're ready. Come on, let's go home. You may not _feel_ cold, but you're gonna get hypothermia before too long."

"Mmm. The probability of Rose being correct is at least 85%." L shook his head to try and clear his deliriousness.

They walked home, swaying and weaving from the alcohol, mostly in silence. But silence didn't feel weird this time.

"Oh, and by the way, I think you may be right after all about Light-kun."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Or at least, that he's involved in some way. He himself accidentally reminded me that despite the entire rest of the police force knowing his name and knowing he's working with L to catch Kira, no one has tried to kill him. He thinks, of course, that I never told them he was involved."

"That's a very good point. I suppose we should pay him a visit tomorrow."

"Definitely."

They reached Rose's apartment, and L flopped straight over the arm of the sofa horizontally. "Goodnight," he mumbled into the sofa cushion, feeling like he was falling asleep already.

"Goodnight."

 _Thanks for reading = ] please do praise/criticise or whatever, follow if you're keen for more! Peace x_


	31. Chapter 31: About Turn

_Thanks to my reviewers, you absolutely make my day! I was gonna add another section at the end of this chapter, but decided it was actually better as a stand-alone scene. So, here it is, hope you enjoy = ]_

At about the same time Rose and L were climbing the cherry tree, Light bid his farewells to his increasingly intoxicated work colleagues, and drove to Kiyomi Takada's house. He had texted to forewarn her of his arrival to make sure she was still awake, and she had been. Drawing up onto her drive, he paused for a moment in the car, collecting his thoughts. _This is going to take all my wits, cunning and charm._ He tossed Ryuk an apple.

"Let's go then."

Kiyomi opened the door and beamed. "Light-kun!"

"Kiyomi-kun!" He took her in his arms. "I'm so sorry it's been so long. I've literally only just been taken off 24/hour surveillance."

"It's okay," she said into his shoulder, "I knew you didn't have a choice. I'm just glad to have you back."

Light kissed her gently. "It's good to see you."

"You too." She took him by the hand and led him into the kitchen. "Tea?"

"Please."

Kiyomi put the kettle on, and eyed the Shinigami hovering behind Light warily. That grin never failed to creep her out. "So... what happens next? Do you want the Death Note back?"

Light shrugged, conflicted. "Yes, but I can't. It's still way too dangerous, until L and Emily-kun are out of the way."

"That makes sense. I'll hold on to it then."

"Well I must say, you've been doing a great job. I can't thank you enough." He took her in his arms again, running his fingers through her short black silky hair. When the kettle boiled, he released her and she poured tea, carrying it through to the living room. They sat on the sofa next to each other.

"So have you had any luck with finding their names?"

Light shook his head, allowing a mild despair to cross his face. "It's no use. Emily-kun's real name isn't even on official record anywhere, she's a criminal fugitive. And I'm pretty sure she doesn't even know Ryuzaki-kun's real name, and he for sure would never let it slip." He rested his head in his hands, grimacing, as a moment of silence passed. "Do you remember what I told you about the eye deal?"

"Yes, I remember. It's possible to trade half of one's lifespan for the eyes of a Shinigami, allowing you to see people's names above their heads." Kiyomi looked at Light, concerned. "What are you saying Light-kun?"

Light groaned. "I'm saying that I'm going to have to make the deal. I've been left with no choice, it's the only way. They must be eliminated. It's a sacrifice I have to make." He turned to her, pain and anguish brimming expressively over his face.

"Oh, Light-kun!" Kiyomi squeezed his shoulders, desperation in her grey eyes.

"I'll just have to hope that I have time to build the new world before I die." He gulped. "I hope it's enough time."

"No!" Kiyomi took his face in her hands. "How are you supposed to keep peace, order and justice in the new world if you are dead? The world will need Kira."

"I don't know..."

Kiyomi turned away again, and stared into her tea with a troubled look. It looked to Light as if she was thinking hard. She remained that way for some time, biting her lip. Eventually, she whispered some quiet words.

"I could do it."

"What?" Light could barely believe his ears. _Was it really that easy?_

"I could do it," Kiyomi said louder, turning to face him, scared but defiant. "I could do the eye deal. I'm clever but I'm no genius like you, Light-kun. The world will need you, but it won't need me."

"Don't be stupid Kiyomi-kun!" He cried, and shook her shoulder. "I could never allow you to do that for me. Firstly on principle – I could not let someone else do the worse job for me. But secondly and more importantly I _care_ about you Kiyomi-kun, and I want to have you, my goddess, by my side when I rule the world. I want to rule it _together, with you_. I cannot allow you to do it."

Kiyomi shook her head slowly. "No. There's no one else we can trust, so there's no one else that can do it. I WANT to help, Light-kun. I want to make a perfect world as much as you do! And that will never happen if we don't get rid of those two. If this is to be my role in bringing about the new world, then I'm happy. It's a role I couldn't be more proud of."

"Kiyomi-"

"No," she cut off, with a sad smile. "I've made up my mind. I love you Light-kun, I would do anything to help you." She took his hands in hers. "And hey, besides, I might still get to live for another thirty years! I might get to see the ascension of our perfect world anyway."

Light gazed into her eyes. "I can't deny how helpful that would be. But you can't just throw away half of your life like that, it's not right."

Kiyomi put a finger to his lips. "It's not throwing it away. Think of it as donating it to a good cause."

"You sound sure."

"I AM sure. Surer than I've ever been. Let me do this Light-kun. For you, for me, but mostly for the world."

Light sighed heavily. "Then perhaps it would be cruel of me to stop you."

Kiyomi nodded. There was an ethereal light in her eyes. "Let me help you."

"Then you know what that means? It means you will have to become the principle owner of the Death Note for a little while, only the primary owner can do the trade."

"Okay. How does that work?"

Light turned to Ryuk. "I just have to say 'I relinquish ownership of the Death Note', right? And then Kiyomi-kun picks it up?"

"Yeah, that's right. But Light you'll lose your memory, remember?"

But as long as Kiyomi-kun lets me touch the Death Note straight after, I'll remember, right?"

"Yeah, that should work."

"So as long as I keep a piece of it on me, I should remember?"

"Don't see why not."

Light turned back to Kiyomi. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She smiled at him. "I'm sure. The decision is made."

Light smiled back at her. _I can't believe this was so easy. Women in love are truly pathetic aren't they? Luckily for me._ "So did you get the Death Note back out of hiding?"

"Yes, I went to get it when you texted me."

"Brilliant."

Kiyomi took the little black notebook out of her bag and handed it to him.

"Okay, here goes." Light took a deep breath, and took a last look at Ryuk. "I relinquish ownership of this Death Note." He dropped it on the floor. His large almond eyes widened, he stared around, before rubbing his face in confusion.

Kiyomi grinned to herself, and whilst Light's eyes were briefly closed, picked up the Death Note and slipped it back into her handbag. _You fool, Light Yagami. You underestimated me, and played right into my hands. You made the most foolish mistake a liar could make – assuming that no one else is lying too. I've always known you were just using me in your game. How the tables have turned! I loved you once, wholeheartedly, but not anymore. Not once I saw through your act, saw your selfishness. And this was the icing on the cake! Trying to persuade me to half my life when you're too cowardly and egotistical to do it yourself. You bastard. You fool, to think that I was that obsessed with you. My first taste of the power of the Death Note put all other obsessions out of my mind. I was being honest when I said the world needed Kira, but the world doesn't need YOU. Not you, who are already suspected, who has already let it get this bad, you've already failed Light Yagami. The world needs Kira – but Kira shall be me._

"Light-kun!" Kiyomi looked concerned. "What's the matter, you came over all funny of a sudden."

Light felt his temples gingerly, his eyes were round with the lost-ness of a small child parted from his mother. "What just happened?"

"I think you might have blacked out for a second. Are you okay?" Kiyomi took his hands sympathetically.

"Urh, yeah, I think so. Shit, I must have been more drunk than I thought."

"Yeah, you've definitely been acting a bit odd."

"What were we talking about?"

"Just about your work and stuff, nothing that crazy."

"Right. I see." Light shook his head. _What's happened to my memory? Is this what happens when you get too drunk? The last few months all feel somewhat hazy. Fuck what if I've given myself permanent brain damage?_

"I think you should probably go home and have a good sleep, you're hardly in the state to socialise right now." Kiyomi stroked his brow tenderly.

"Urrh, yeah. That's probably a good idea."

Light stumbled to the door, and Kiyomi kissed him goodbye for the last time.

"Goodbye Light-kun!" Kiyomi waved. "I won't be seeing you," she added in a whisper, as Light got into his car. Returning to the living room, Kiyomi took the Death Note out and hugged it with satisfaction.

Ryuk cackled. "I must admit, I wasn't expecting that one. Kiyomi you're full of surprises."

Kiyomi flashed him a lipsticked smile, slowly getting used to staring the unblinking monster in the eye. "So Ryuk, can I kill him now?"

"Well technically no, it's a pact made between the Shinigami and the first human owner of the Death Note that their life shall be claimed by that death god."

"What would happen if I tried?"

"Not really sure to be honest."

"Ryuk if you kill him now, I promise there will be no end of further entertainment for you. I won't let you be bored, I promise. And I'll bring you apples, Light-kun told me you liked them."

Ryuk twisted himself around in a few odd contortions for a moment. "Let me get this straight, lady. I'll do things because I want to, not coz you want me to. But to be honest, I think you may have the right idea. Light was an interesting guy, but I think you've proved you'll be just as interesting. I don't want the game to just stop here."

"I would appreciate it." Kiyomi drank her tea that had sat for a long time on the table going cold, and then drank Light's too. She felt a glow of power and drive and control in her entire being. "Hey you know, Ryuk? If you want to make life as interesting as possible, make Light-kun die in a non-suspicious way. Let's keep our enemies guessing."

"Fair enough. It doesn't really bother me how he dies."

Ryuk took a bizarre-looking pen from out of somewhere in his garment or body, Kiyomi couldn't really tell the difference, and brought it to a page in his own Death Note.

 _Light Yagame, 05:23. Driving through Tokyo city, he drunkenly crashes his car by sending it off the edge of a raised road, and dies quickly as the car sets on fire and explodes._

 _Ooooh did anyone see THAT coming? Haha. Please let me know your thoughts if you have any, thanks as always for taking the time to read my imaginative wanderings._

 _As you can tell, I'm all about the feminine empowerment in this story! I absolutely adored Death Note, but couldn't stand how pathetic all the women were, especially the one's just falling at Light's feet, so I've been trying to improve the situation. Until next time, peace x_


	32. Chapter 32: Aftermath

_Hello readers, sorry I forgot to say that I was going away for the weekend! Thanks to those who've been giving me encouraging reviews, it's lovely = ] So here's the next bit, hope you enjoy_

Ding. Ding. Ding.

The ringing of bells woke L up. He lay still for a moment, listening as the bells slowly faded away, noticing how heavy and alien his body felt. L tried to sit up – it was a mistake. Devastating pangs of pain bludgeoned his brain, and he groaned and fell back down again. Why, why have I done this to myself? How disgracefully irresponsible.

After lying down for a further few minutes trying to move a little as possible, L heard Rose's bedroom door open. There were a few footsteps, and a stifled laugh.

"You look well."

"As long as I don't move an inch I'm in full health." He squinted up at her. "Ow. Or open my eyes apparently. How do I fix this?"

"I'm sure you can work it out."

"Well, I suppose... Alcohol is a psychoactive substance that depresses i.e. slows down brain function, dilates blood capillaries, suppresses the activity of the central nervous system, inhibits various hormones including vasopressin... This last point, combined with the fact the body is trying to flush out the toxin, means that water is passed straight to the bladder rather than being absorbed back into the body, causing dehydration. When the body is put under that stress, it will steal spare water from wherever it can to continue trying to flush out the poison, including the brain. This will cause the brain to shrink, and pull on the membranes that attach the brain to the skull. That explains the headache, so the first thing I need is water. I also need to stimulate my metabolism in order to remove the poison quicker. Two things that speed up one's metabolism are foodstuffs with quickly absorbed energy, and physical movement, so the other two things I need are sugar and exercise."

Rose nodded approvingly. "Correct. Though you missed the fact it depletes certain important nutrients, so they'd need replacing too. Potassium and sodium, for example."

"Good point."

Rose poured two large glasses of water, and found some bananas. "Bananas have vitamin C and potassium, so that's a good start."

L sat up gingerly and took the water. As he did so, Rose's phone rang from her bedroom. "A phone call this early?" She went through to get it. "Yes? Hello Yagami-san. What's wrong? Wait, slow down."

"Stanton-san, Light, my son, Light is, is, oh god, he's dead."

Rose's heart jumped, and she gasped. "No!"

"It's true. He, he crashed his car. It exploded. His body... acchh. It's b-barely even recognisable." Soichiro's voice was broken and cracking, hollow, he hiccupped with dry tears.

"Shit. I'll get down there as soon as possible."

"Thank you. See you soon."

L wandered into the bedroom, half-eaten banana temporarily forgotten in his hand. "Who's dead?" he asked quietly.

"It's Light-kun."

L's brow furrowed. "What does this mean?"

"I don't know." Rose sat down on the bed, and pulled at her hair. This is so bizarre. "Did he really just crash? Or is it Kira related?"

"In all probability it's Kira related. The timing is just too strange, the first day that Light left confinement."

"But does this mean that Light wasn't involved after all? Were you wrong all along?"

L played with his lip thoughtfully. "I don't know."

"But why else would he be dead? Kira obviously wouldn't kill himself. And if he was an accomplice, why would Kira kill his accomplice?"

"There could be reasons." L sighed broodingly. "I don't know. Maybe I was wrong, but everything pointed to Light-kun. Perhaps he WAS Kira, and genuinely just died of a drunken car crash. Perhaps many things." At that point he noticed the expression on Rose's face. "Is Emily-kun okay?"

"I don't really know," she confessed. "Part of me is very sad. But there's a part of me that thinks that just maybe, a mass murderer has just died. I don't know. He's the only proper friend I ever had." Her hazel eyes were wide and glistening, her mouth a bemused slant.

L nodded. "I think I understand. At least, I understand conceptually."

Rose jumped up. Better get on with this. "I need to go to the scene, the Chief asked me to."

"I'll drive you," L offered. The red Honda he had bought on his arrival to Tokyo had been parked, unused in the car park of the block of flats, for his entire stay.

"I forgot you could drive."

"So did I," he replied drily.

"Won't you mind going out in public?"

"I'll stay in the car."

"Okay. Get out for a moment and let me change, we'll leave in five."

 **(gap)**

It was incongruously sunny for a funeral. The cool January sun streamed through the rows of high windows, sending shafts of light over people's heads. A select bunch of Light's family and friends sat in a room all dressed in black, listening to a priest chant sutras. On the previous day had been the wake, attended by hundreds of people – Light Yagami had been a very popular man.

Rose found it interesting observing a Buddhist funeral ceremony. She'd never actually attended a funeral in England, but she'd seen plenty of Christian funerals in films and TV. Some parts were highly similar, others were strange. She found the concept of condolence money especially bizarre. Before them lay Light's coffin, but Light himself had been covered by a white sheet. Soichiro Yagami had thought it best that no one see his burnt and broken body, transformed from gorgeous young human to horrific hellish demon. Better they remembered him as he was.

Soichiro, Sachiko, and Sayu Yagami wore stricken masks of grief – Sachiko's face was tracked with tear marks, her mouth twisted up, Sayu had her head buried in Sachiko's shoulder. A couple of seats down sat Kiyomi Takada, her face hidden behind her hands.

As the service ended and Light's coffin was carried away to the crematorium, Rose awkwardly gave her condolences to the Chief, who gave her a pat on the arm, and tried to offer a grim smile.

"Thank you Stanton-san. Perhaps we will never know whether he was killed by Kira or from his own drunken mistake." He laughed hollowly. "To be honest, I don't even know which version I want to believe."

"I don't know either."

"There is only one good thing to come of this is that because the killings have continued, I now know that my son was not Kira. It is the only comfort in this, in this-"

His voice cut off as he struggled to contain a sob of sorrow. I won't mention the fact that it doesn't technically 100% clear his name, Rose thought. "Of course."

Rose took her leave, exiting onto the cold, dry, sunny street. As she walked away, a voice called to her.

"Stanton-san, wait!"

Rose turned, and saw a graceful female figure with an elegant dark bob and red lipstick exiting the door. "Takada-san." She waited for Kiyomi Takada to approach.

"May I have a word?"

"Sure."

Kiyomi wiped around her large grey eyes. They looked red to Rose. "I just wanted to ask, how was he on his final night? He was off ill for so long, he was going to come and see me the day after the department party, but then he, he... well you know... before I could see him again." She hiccupped, her mouth trembling. "Was he happy? Did he die happily?" Her eyes shone with urgency.

Rose nodded. "Yes, I think he was happy. He was definitely fully recovered. We had some good laughs."

Rose watched the dark haired woman as her eyes closed for a moment, and her urgency calmed. "Good." Her eyes opened again, now just full of sadness. "There's a voice in my head that tells me Kira did this. But it's nonsense of course, Light-kun wasn't a criminal, he'd have no to reason to kill Light-kun." Kiyomi pulled a face. "I guess I just don't want to accept that he was stupid enough to drink-drive, eh?"

"Yes, it does seem unlike Light-kun," Rose acknowledged. So Light never told Kiyomi that he was working on the case. Well, that's probably for the best.

"Well, see you around Stanton-san."

"Good bye Takada-san."

Kiyomi walked off towards her car, and smiled. She didn't blink an eyelid at that, it seems Stanton believes I know nothing about what's going on. So she certainly won't know that I'm even aware that her friend from England is L. Perfect. I have the upper hand.

As her chauffeur pulled away, Kiyomi caressed the piece of the Death Note in her pocket longingly. Had Kiyomi ever had any experience with certain drugs, she would have known what was happening to her. She'd have recognised the growing pull to use it, the way it devoured more and more of her thoughts, the way that all other aspects of her life started to all be a means to an end: for the purpose of being able to carry on using the Death Note. She'd have recognised the thrill and intoxication of putting the pen to the paper, the feeling of supernatural power in her veins, of power over all of humanity, as an echo of other's thrills for over sensations of indomitability. And if she'd recognised these things, the all-consuming addiction, then maybe the goodness left in Kiyomi would have warned her to get rid of it quickly, before it consumed her entirely. But she didn't, and thus it was already too late. A manic giggle ripped its way through her vocal chords – a madness was already poisoning her veins.

 **(gap)**

"Emily-kun. Emily-kun."

Rose groaned. "Urrhh."

"Emily-kun, wake up." A hand shook her shoulder gently.

Rose blearily opened her eyes, blinked, and a pale, angular face with black owlish eyes swam into view. There was a brightness about L then, a tense excitement written in his limbs.

"What is it?" Rose mumbled, rubbing her face tiredly. She checked the clock. Dammit, I've only been asleep for 40 minutes. This better be important.

"You told me earlier that Kiyomi-san informed you that she had not seen Light-kun since he was ill, is that correct?"

"Mmhmm."

"Then you better come look at this."

Rose yawned. "Okay." Pulling the duvet up around her she got up, draping the duvet around her like a cloak to cover her half-nakedness, and shuffled out to the living room. L suppressed a smile at her grumpy face, puffy eyes, tousled hair. Sleepy people are quite funny, aren't they? What's the word? Cute. She looks cute.

L vaulted over the back of the sofa, and brought up several tabs of paused videos. "As I said earlier, with our astonishing lack of any other leads, I thought it best to continue to work on the assumption that Light-kun was involved and his death was suspicious. It then occurred to me that if he was driving directly back from the department party, ending up on the road where he crashed would have meant taking only the second most efficient route home."

Rose's sleepy brain started to whir into action. "And we know well that Light-kun would only ever drive the most efficient route possible, even if drunk."

"Precisely. So I took the liberty of examining some CCTV footage. Look, here's you and Light-kun having a lovely chat outside the venue, and then..." he fast-forwarded the tape about an hour forward, "here's Light-kun leaving. He gets in his car and drives the opposite way to the direction of his flat. Now there's not much CCTV in that part of suburbia, but in a further eighty-four minutes, he leaves that area of suburbia past this high-street." L showed another video, as Light's car span down a dark road. "Which means-"

"Kiyomi Takada's house?" Rose offered.

"Quite possibly. It's definitely her area of town."

"If so, then what a lying bitch! If that's where Light was going, perhaps at the funeral she was testing my reactions, seeing what I know. Shit, she probably knows everything about you, too."

"If she's actually involved," L cautioned. "But yes, my intuition is that Kiyomi Takada and Light Yagami are intimately connected to Kira."

Rose was fully awake now. "Okay. When it's time for her to be at work, I'll go back and search the house again, and arrange full wire tap and video coverage of her house."

"Yes I think that would be best. We could place her in interrogation, but I'm not sure there's any point until we have SOME kind of evidence at least, at the moment, all we know is that she probably lied to you about seeing Light-kun two nights ago. Be careful. I'd come with you, but-"

"We need someone on the outside at all times, I thoroughly agree. Besides, you need to keep your face hidden." It had of course crossed Rose's mind that she would be the one putting herself in danger, but there wasn't really a way around that.

L looked relieved that that she understood. "Thank you." It had always been a permanent source of guilt for L that he always kept himself safe whilst others took the frontline, so permanent in fact, that for many years he'd utterly blocked out the sensation in all his waking moments. Rationally of course, he could psychoanalyse his situation, and understand the pattern of guilt, repression, and apathy, but it had only been in his dreams and nightmares that he had actually felt the guilt. Things were somewhat different now however, now that the person going to the front line was one he cared about. Wammy had usually taken a backseat, managerial role like himself, so for him he'd never felt the guilt in quite the same way.

Not that that means anything can change. I have a role to preserve. If L isn't invisible, he is not mystery, and if he is not a mystery, he is not threatening. No, things must stay this way.

But it was with foreboding three hours later, that he watched her leave. An eerie silent montage of all the other people he'd ever put in harm's way, and who had died or been hurt in the process, slid through his mind, their accusing eyes reproaching him.

"Be careful," he warned again, and reached out to touch her hand, just in case.

Rose laughed. "It'll be fine."

 _Sorry nothing tremendously exciting happens in this one, all these things had to happen though for the story to progress! Thank you for reading my story = ] have a good day, peace x_


	33. Chapter 33: Shinigami

Rose disabled Kiyomi's burglar alarm as easily as the last time. The little house was quiet, the only sound the dim patter of rain outside. Methodically she examined every room, going through every cupboard, checking under each chair, table and bed, rifling through the piles of papers and letters of the desk. _Still nothing._

Just as she began to install the first cameras in the kitchen she heard the rumble of a car and the cracking of gravel. "Shit," Rose cursed. There was no time to work out how to open the back door, Kiyomi was already opening the front. _Oh this is going really badly._ Heart thudding, Rose grabbed the bag of equipment, ran into Kiyomi's bedroom, and hid inside the generous wardrobe behind a rack of dresses. It was dark and claustrophobic, and her breathing sounded horribly loud, her heart sounding like it was beating inside her head. She tried to quiet it.

"Why hasn't the alarm gone off?" She heard Kiyomi say to herself. "Someone's tampered with it! Ryuk have you seen anyone?"

Rose stiffened as a guttural voice answered her. "Dunno."

 _She's not alone? And this guy sounds pretty hard. Fuck that's even worse._ Rose frantically tried to think of a way out of the situation, but it was looking dire. The muffled footsteps indicated Kiyomi was getting nearer. And nearer. And nearer.

The wardrobe door creaked open and light flooded in. Rose was still behind the clothes, so she tried not to move or breathe. It was pointless, for Kiyomi's hand brushed the clothes aside anyway. Rose's heart sank. _I've failed._

"Stanton-san!" she exclaimed. "What on earth are you doing in my wardrobe?"

Rose tumbled out. "Aah, Takada-san, just who I was- - AAARGHHHHH!" What Rose saw made her collapse in fear and shock, for hovering behind Kiyomi was a ghastly demon, with a horrifyingly comical smile and unblinking stare. Rose herself blinked many times, but it wouldn't go away. Kiyomi turned to the beast in confusion.

"Ryuk why can she see you?" she demanded imperiously.

"It's, it's r-real?" Rose stuttered, gaping, shaking with uncertainty.

The demon shrugged, and cackled. "Well she must've touched a bit of the Death Note."

"Death Note?" Rose queried in fright. _I'm totally out of my depth here. Have I gone mad? Am I dreaming?_

Kiyomi's eyes flicked to her desk. "Shit. I left a page there." Her eyes narrowed, her pretty mouth pursed, she looked murderous. "I don't know what to do! Better buy some time."

Had Rose been less preoccupied with the otherworldly sight in front of her, then she could have anticipated what Kiyomi meant by 'buying some time', and easily dealt with it. But she was transfixed by 'Ryuk', and so didn't block the ornate Chinese vase that came crashing down onto the top of her head. She felt it land with a horrible crack, felt a surge of pain, and then fell into oblivion.

Sometime later consciousness began to return. Her head throbbed, her shoulders ached, her wrists stung. _Why's that?_ Being careful not to show that she was awake, Rose examined the sensations in her body. _I can feel dried droplets of blood on my forehead. My arms are twisted behind my back, they're trapped, they're bound by... rope?_

Rose, semi-delirious, couldn't help but laugh a little. _Why do I always seem to end up getting knocked out and tied up by people?_ At the time, it seemed like the funniest thing in the world. Then she remembered what had happened and opened her eyes immediately, yanking herself upright. She was on the floor of Kiyomi's bedroom, hands bound to a thick pipe leading to a radiator. Giving it an experimental tug, it seemed that it wouldn't shift easily. On the opposite side of the room Kiyomi sat at her desk, legs crossed elegantly, a strange excitement playing over her face. To Rose's horror, the demon still hadn't gone away.

"So I've had some time to think, and it seems I have no other choice but to kill you."

Rose gulped. "You're Kira?"

"I am now." Kiyomi smiled coquettishly. "Since he's dead and you're about to die, it really does no harm to tell you that Light-kun _used_ to be Kira."

 _Light-kun._ Rose felt a weird mixture of disappointment and satisfying confirmation. _Anyway, no time to dwell over that. I must stall her for as long as possible_. "Who's the demon?"

"Why don't you ask the Shinigami yourself, that would be much better manners," Kiyomi stated coolly. She was clearly enjoying herself.

 _A Shinigami? A god of death? What the hell is going on?_ Rose turned reluctantly to the creature. "Who are you?"

"Ryuk," it growled. "And you're Emily Stanton. I've heard all about _you._ "

Kiyomi sighed. "But of course that's not your _real_ name. And that's why you and L are truly problematic. You've been a real pain, I must say."

 _She's gloating,_ Rose realised. _She already thinks she's won._ Rose remembered her own advice that she'd given L in their last fight: never assume your enemy has given up. _Or that they've already lost. I can use this to my advantage_. Rose made sure her face and voice were frightened and hopeless. "B-but, how can we see a Shinigami?" Slowly behind her back Rose started feeling around the rope, search for the knot or any loose or weak spots.

Kiyomi waved a sheet of paper lazily in the air. "This sheet of paper, torn from the Death Note. Touch a Death Note, you see one. It's all very simple."

"A Death Note?" Rose echoed. _Aha. What's this?_ Rose's left hand, the one with all its fingers, had found the knot. It was tight, but not necessarily impossible. _Gotta keep stalling her._ Rose's head panged with pain, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate. It felt like there could be a small crack in her skull.

Kiyomi gave a silvery laugh. "You probably think it's a crazy as I thought. But if a god of death drops their notebook in the 'human world', the human that picks it up only needs a name and a face, and they can write down that person's name and kill them."

Rose shook her head, and dropped her voice to a whisper. "That can't be possible." She'd managed to work the end of her middle finger into a loop in the knot.

"The proof is Kira's killings themselves. And that's why Kira is unstoppable."

"Why are you doing this?" Rose asked. The knot seemed stuck. _Fuck. That isn't good._

Kiyomi smiled a beatific smile, her eyes shone with a holy light. "Justice! May the world not be tarnished with those impure of soul!"

"At the price of being a murderer?" The knot had come a little looser again.

"Sacrifices must be made." Kiyomi's face narrowed again. "And now I must make another sacrifice, unfortunately, because of you. There's no other way." She turned to the Shinigame. "Ryuk, I want to make the eye deal. Stanton-san must die."

Ryuk's eyes widened, and glowed with a devilish red. "My pleasure." Kiyomi closed her eyes for a second. When she reopened them, she grinned a maniacal grin, shuddering slightly.

"You thought you were safe, didn't you?" She mocked. "Well you aren't any more... Rose."

Rose's heart almost stopped. _Rose. She said Rose. No. No no no._ "How?" she gasped.

"Ryuk just gave me the power of his eyes. I can see your name and life span above your head," she gloated. The new level of power surging through her was nothing she'd felt before, and Kiyomi was riding its wave with delight. "Well, I'm sorry it had to end this way Rose. You just didn't have a chance against the supernatural, did you? And then after this, I'll go and kill L, too, and Kira's reign will be unthreatened." Kiyomi smiled, and picked up a pen.

"No!" With a cry Rose finally had the knot just loose enough to wrench her hands out of, the tough strands ripping at the skin at her hands. She leapt across the room, rage and adrenaline giving her unusual speed. But with a snarl distorting her beautiful face, Kiyomi darted out of the way and ran from the room, pen and paper in hand.

"Don't you fucking dare!" Rose raced after the dark haired woman to the kitchen, where she was fumbling with the back door. She had it open and was halfway out of it when Rose reached her and tackled her to the floor. They fell onto the rain-soaked step, murder and desperation in both of their eyes, teeth bared, fighting with no remorse. But whilst Kiyomi may have possessed the most deadly of murder weapons, in close combat she could be no match for Rose's extensive martial training.

 _Desperate times call for desperate measures,_ Rose thought grimly. And as she felt her head wound reopen and blood trickle down her face once more, she wrapped her strong legs around Kiyomi's torso from behind, seized her chin and head in her hands, and pulled upwards and sideways with all her strength. After a few seconds of excruciating struggle Rose felt her neck crack, and Kiyomi's struggling ceased.

The pretty woman's body lay inert on top of her. More rivulets of blood wiggled their way over Rose's hair and face, merging with the trickles of rain. With a final burst of energy, Rose pushed Kiyomi's corpse off her and collapsed on the sodden concrete step, drifting out of consciousness.

Suburbia was undisturbed once more. A gust of wind blew the small piece of paper out of Kiyomi's now loose and motionless grip. It fluttered aimlessly for a while, before falling back to earth a few feet away next to a drain. The rain, heavier now, pounded down upon the figures sprawled on the steps and the piece of paper on the ground, mixing with Rose's blood as it trickled towards the drain. Slowly, steadily, the paper was inched towards the grill of the drain by the rain and wind, until it fell into the liquid vortex within, disintegrating into nothingness.

 **(gap)**

Everything was white and blank. Her vision, her bodily sensations, even her mental timbre seemed white and blank. Rose stared vacantly at the whiteness, enjoying the total absence of, well, anything.

"Emily-kun."

A soft low voice disrupted the blankness, and Roses eyes swam back into focus. She was in a white bed, staring at a white ceiling. There was a smell of antiseptic and blood, and a few machines beeped around her. Tilting her head to the right Rose saw a barefooted willowy figure crouching on a chair, his mouth firmly downturned, his jaw set, his onyx eyes bottomless and deeply shadowed, his countenance grim and dark.

"What happened." L's voice was especially quiet and controlled. Rose knew what that meant – L was angry.

Rose opened her mouth to reply, but then shut it again. _What am I supposed to say?_ _How could he possibly believe me?_ "Why are you angry?" she asked instead.

L's impenetrable gaze seized upon hers. "I am angry," he said, "Because I let you get hurt. Again."

Rose scoffed gently. "I'm a free person Ryuzaki-kun. I chose to go."

"I know, but all the same..." He bit his thumb. "What happened?"

Closing her eyes, Rose hesitated. "You're not going to believe a word I say."

"Tell me," L commanded.

She concealed a smile. She loved and hated it in equal measure when he used that voice. "Okay. But you're going to think it's crazy."

L waited patiently, and ate a sugar cube. After collecting her thoughts, Rose told every last detail of her visit to Kiyomi's. L remained motionless throughout the whole thing.

"So, there we have it," Rose trailed off lamely, watching his impassive face.

Inside L, alarms were ringing. He held his tense body taut and still, not betraying the manifold reactions within. _There was no trace of lie on her face. Rose meant what she said. And her wrist and head wounds match the story. Can it be? I can't deny her story fits... but Shinigami? Supernatural notebooks? Every rational fibre in my being says that can't be true. She's sustained a fairly serious head wound. There's a reasonable probability of... brain damage._ L clenched his jaw, stared at Rose uncertainly. _Has she gone mad?_ L saw there was now a deep sadness in her hazel eyes.

"You don't believe me, do you." Her voice was somewhere between forlorn and embittered.

"I don't think you're lying," he said carefully.

"You think I've gone crazy then."

"I can't rule the possibility out." The look of betrayal on her face made his chest ache. _I'm sorry,_ L said silently, but somehow couldn't make the words come out. His phone buzzed. _Shit. Time to go._

Rose watched him checked the phone, and look back to her with urgency. "Look Emily-kun, I've been tracking the members of the NPA close to you to make sure no one could surprise us whilst I was visiting, I can't risk them making the leap to who I am. I've just been alerted that Soichiro Yagami is on his way. I don't know what's going to happen, but I know none of this will look good. You've killed a woman, apparently in cold blood, for reasons that are totally unbelievable. Tread cautiously. Once I can communicate with the police as L, I will."

Rose, bitter as she was that he didn't believe her, didn't want L to go. She knew the words that his words had hidden, the words written silently beneath, she could see what was coming. "Must you leave?" she asked, resenting how pathetic her voice sounded. He bit his lip.

"Yes." Without another word he left her alone in the blank, white room.

 _Thank you for reading = ] please do criticise/praise to let me know how I'm doing! I'm finding it a bit of struggle writing this section, so I might take a day off from posting tomorrow, we'll see. Peace x_


	34. Chapter 34: Limbo

_To Aura – Yes she murders in self-defence, though the problem is no one has anything to go off but her word that that's what happened, and that will even trouble L, being as he likes hard evidence so much!_

 _To WildfireDreams – as far as I'm aware, it's only the original human owner of the Death Note whose life is destined to the shinigami who dropped it, all others after that can die in a way that the shinigami doesn't create – might be wrong, but that's the way I read the rules._

 _Thanks for your queries! On with the story._

L pressed the button that allowed him to speak through the encrypted computer in the NPA – thankfully Rose had installed a permanent connection before... this. He felt jittery. It could have been from emotion, though he couldn't analyse which, or it could've been from the fact he hadn't slept in two days, and had drunk more coffees and cups of tea than he'd possibly ever drunk in his life, furiously trying to establish a case, any sort of case, that might let her off the hook.

"So?" He questioned.

On the receiving end, Chief Soichiro Yagami jumped at the sound of the robotic, multi-toned voice. "Aaah, there you are," he said recovering his wits.

"So, what's it looking like?" The voice pressed. It was still somehow melodic, even when computerised.

Soichiro sighed. "It's not looking good for Stanton-san. Takada-san's family, may she rest in peace, are by no means poor and they've forked out for a lawyer who's just as good as the one you've paid for, L, and they're willing to fight to the death. Urgh. No tasteless pun intended."

"And?"

Soichiro shook his head at the camera. "You know the answer as well as I do. Even if Stanton-san killed out of self-defence, which is impossible to prove for definite due to the lack of witnesses, she still killed Takada-san. That's a fact that your lawyer can't argue against. And for what reason did she kill her? For some – pardon me using their words, but that's just how people see it – raving nonsense about gods of death and killer notebooks. Do you really think that's going to hold any sway in court?"

Soichiro heard L's distorted voice curse, and raised his eyebrows. He'd never heard him swear before. "Yes, I know all of that," cracked the voice impatiently, "but the killings have stopped, everyone knows that! Surely that's reason enough to let her off, or at least suspend the sentence."

"That's not how the world will see it. For a start, half of the world LOVED Kira, and are deeply unhappy that his/her righteous judgement has seemed to come to an end. Secondly, even if Takada-san and... and... Light were involved," Soichiro said with difficulty, "that doesn't prove anything she said about the supernatural. For all we know Kira could be biding his time to leave a false trail. We've searched Takada's house and any other building or property related to her and found no sign of such a notebook, the piece of paper that was Takada-san was purportedly about to write on, or anything at all related."

L crushed a chocolate biscuit in his hand to fine powder. "What has Stanton-san been saying?" he asked quietly.

"She refuses to back down from her story. Of course that means Takada-san's lawyer is arguing that either she's gone mad, or that Stanton-san is making up a mad-sounding lie to cover up the real motives for her crime. I think the angle he's going for is that Stanton-san was madly in love with Light, jealous of Takada-san, and unhinged by his death."

L sprinkled the crumby powder onto the increasing sand dune of crushed biscuit piling up on the hotel desk before him. "That's ridiculous."

Soichiro sighed. "This is _all_ ridiculous. You and the Takada's have both got incredible lawyers. But the truth is that they have facts on their side, and you have no hard evidence whatsoever. I'm sorry, you may be the world's greatest detective, but without evidence you can't win."

"So I suppose I know what's going to happen," L's robotic voice said softly. "Either she backs down from her story and gets a prison sentence, under 10 years if we can show that it was self-defence, which with the head wound shouldn't be too hard. Or, she refuses to back down, and the court will probably rule that she has recently onset schizophrenia, and send her to a psychiatric hospital/prison for the criminally insane."

"Exactly."

There was a pause. "Thank you Chief Yagami. That's all I need to know. You may not hear from me again."

L switched off the connection. For two days he'd been frantic, but all his energy and the caffeine had drained away, leaving him feeling sick and old and useless. _L is one of the most powerful influences in the legal world and there's STILL nothing I can do. I'm impotent – I've never felt impotent before. What's the point in being the world's (three) greatest detective(s) if I can't even make a case to get someone out of jail? I wish I knew what was going on, Rose. Maybe you ARE mad, and I'm mad to try and get you out, I don't know. But I just can't believe it. The killings have stopped. My intuition says that, despite all rationality and logic, you are not lying. Is my intuition deceived by my feelings? I don't know. I don't know anything about this, and that's what's pissing me off. I ALWAYS know things, I can ALWAYS prove things._

He paced the hotel room, a lion in a cage, or more like a wolf in a cage. The thought had crossed his mind to lie. L knew how easy it would be for him to invent evidence that could excuse her of everything except the bare fact of the killing – he'd worked long enough as a detective to be able to construct any level of convincing story.

Now L wasn't against lying in principle, as an isolated concept. He'd lied before, to serve the purposes of justice. But he'd never invented evidence, and his pride and what he supposed was his moral compass prevented from _that_ particular lie. Besides, it could only be justified if the lie would 100% serve justice, and L couldn't honestly tell himself that it would. If Kiyomi Takada wasn't Kira, and Rose had killed her for no reason except a delusion, what justice would it serve to get her out? No, he'd just be pandering to his own emotions rather than the facts, and that would be a deep perversion of the objective justice he sought to serve.

The reality of the situation for L the man, not L the detective, then hit him all over again, and he punched the wall as the anger exploded out of him. He heard muffled protests from the people on the other side of wall in their own hotel bedroom, but he ignored them, and ignored the bloody knuckle indents in the white paint. He'd pay for the damage of course. _The only person in the world that I care for is being incarcerated, and I'm powerless to stop it._

The worst bit was that he knew he couldn't see her now. Once she was out of hospital she'd be watched like a hawk in the time around her hearing, until her sentence was given. Any unusual contact – and he'd definitely be counted as unusual contact – would be followed up as a potential clue to the case.

"I'll get you out," he whispered to the empty air. "I trust you, I do. I promise I'll prove you right."

 **(gap)**

It was a Tuesday morning. After three days the doctors had let her go, and now a taxi drew up in front of her block of flats. She was tagged, of course, and it was heavy around her ankle. The weather was dull grey, no sun, no rain, just grey. As had greeted Rose when she'd stepped out of the large automatic doors of the hospital, a gaggle of news reporters hounded her eagerly as she opened the taxi door. They'd descended on the story like vultures. _Who could blame them? An NPA detective going mad and killing her dead best friend's famous girlfriend over some supernatural shit is like a dream come true._

Rose fended them off tiredly without saying a word, and escaped quickly up the stairs. Blessedly they didn't follow her up. She leaned her head against the door and closed her eyes, the flashing of the reporter's camera's etched onto the inside of her eyelids, and steeled herself to go in.

The purple sofa cushions were straight and plumped. The fridge hummed. The coffee table was empty and gleaming. There was not a speck of dirt on the wide, empty beige carpet. Not a speck of anything, in fact, for all L's possessions were gone, his suitcase of identical long-sleeved white t-shirts and oversized blue jeans, his computer and monitors, the two large bags of various other technical equipment. The unoccupied sofa mocked her with its primped readiness to be sat upon. Empty.

Rose saw that her laptop had been returned from the crime lab, and was sitting on the spotless dining table. She opened it and entered her password. There was not a trace of anything Kira-related to be found, not even when she dug deep. L must've wiped it all before he left. _If he was ever here at all_. The last few months now all seemed like an incredibly extended dream to Rose, her sense of reality had been deeply eroded by the events of the last few days. There wasn't a trace of L, or the Kira case, left anywhere but in her mind. Edging back the sofa, where the blood stain should've been – the one from when they'd had a fight and she'd pressed him nose first into the carpet – there was nothing. Just beige fluff.

 _Perhaps I really HAVE gone mad,_ Rose doubted. _Demons and notebooks that kill people? I can't even believe it myself. But what else am I supposed to say? I killed her. I killed her. I..._

Rose fell to the floor as the feeling of Kiyomi's neck cracking beneath her hands sprung involuntarily into her mind. It had been so... easy. After swearing all her life that she would never work for murderers, she'd become one. She disgusted herself. Though, it all had some kind of poetic justice, really. _I started things as a criminal, and now I'm a criminal again. Full circle. Hah. Fuck it. I refuse to change my story. I will not plead guilty to a scenario that didn't happen, I'll stick to my truth, even if it's not true for anyone else. Fuck them. They can do what they want._

"And fuck you L!" She cried to the empty room. "Why can't you do something about this? Why can't you bloody DO something!"

Of course there was no reply, and the silence tore the seal on her tears, finally letting her cry. Rose stayed in a heap on the floor for some time.

 **(gap)**

"The jury have conferred. All lawyers have spoken, and I the judge have considered it all. The accusation is that you murdered Kiyomi Takada-san at roughly 11am on January the 12th, because you believed she was trying to kill you with a deadly notebook. I give you one last chance to speak, Stanton-san. Do you wish to alter anything in your statement?"

"No." Rose said emotionlessly. She'd learnt from the best after all – her face and voice betrayed nothing.

"Do you plead guilty or not-guilty?"

"Guilty." Her blank eyes bored into the judge's face, who to his credit, held her gaze unfalteringly.

"Then, all things considered, I rule that you are exempt from prison for reasons of insanity, and will be treated in a mental institution until the authorities see fit to release you."

The crowd of reporters and busybodies went wild chattering and flashing their cameras, the jury nodded approvingly. Takada's lawyer smiled smugly. Everybody started standing up and filing out of the courtroom whilst Rose remained motionless, like a rock in a stormy sea. She felt nothing. It was too surreal for anything to sink in. Her lawyer was trying to express his regrets to her, but it was like all sounds were on mute, or rather more like muffled and distorted until words had no meaning, and she couldn't understand him at all.

Eventually a man and a woman came to escort her away, and Rose followed as passively as a drone. She didn't particularly care where she going. It didn't really matter anymore.

 _Thank you very much for reading – this one was pretty descriptive, did you like/dislike?_

 _I had a big struggle with whether Japan actually has mental institutions – it seemed they didn't for a long time, but may have recently developed them in the early 2000's, so I just decided to assume they do, it's a fantasy after all!_


	35. Chapter 35: Matt and Annie

_Cheers to the people who've reviewed! Here's a slightly longer chapter for you to sink your teeth into, hope you like = ]_

The patchwork fields of Southern England had appeared out of the plane window. It looked almost artificial laid out like that, like a map, or a board game. L imagined moving little model people, cars, trains around it, like some bored god playing a intricate game that seemed to have no particular purpose, just a way to pass the time. The plane began to descend in an arc towards Heathrow Airport, revealing the sprawling, inelegant mass of Southwest London.

 _I need to touch base. I'll be better once I have, I'll be back on form. I'll be able to fix this._

He'd phoned ahead to Wammy's House to arrange to be picked up. When L had finally extricated himself from the labyrinthine airport, he was surprised to see not Wammy's old Rolls Royce with Roger at the wheel, but an orangey-red 1960's Chevrolet Camaro, lovingly refurbished and gleaming. A short stocky youth leant against the bonnet, wearing a pair of amber-tinted goggles and dragging on a cigarette. He was smoking it so fast that L could see it burn away. _He looks familiar. Damn, why can't I remember his name?_

"Ryuzaki!" the youth called. His hair was reddy-brown, complexion pale, but his eye colour was obscured by the tinted goggles. "I happened to be driving back from London anyway, so I said I'd do this trip for Roger."

L approached, dragging his possessions. The youth finished his cigarette, and reached into a pocket in his jacket for another. He waved the packet towards L.

"Want a smoke?"

"No, thank you."

"It's Matt by the way," Matt said, offering his hand. L shook it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd shaken someone's hand. English felt weird on his tongue.

"I remember you. I apologise for forgetting your name."

"No worries. Let's get your shit in the car." He lifted a bag of equipment and pulled a comical expression of horror. "Jesus fucking Christ, what do have in here, a dismembered elephant?"

L felt the corners of his mouth tug involuntarily. "Technical equipment."

Matt's eyes lit up. "Oooh, gis a look."

"Maybe not in public."

"Touché. Alright, let's get the hell out of here."

They spent the majority of the journey without talking, listening to the music Matt was playing through his retrofitted sound-system. It was electronic, modern and bassy, full of bizarre synthetic sounds. It reminded L of warehouses and factories.

"What is this music?" he asked after a while.

"A mixture, mostly German techno, industrial techno, dubstep-techno crossovers, but not the stupid brostep dubstep, the good kind. Do you like it?"

"I don't know. I've never had the opportunity to listen to much music," he confessed.

Matt almost spat out his cigarette. "What the fuck, man? Everyone needs music."

 _I like how relaxed he is with me. Most of the time I meet the kids from Wammy's they're somewhat starstruck in my company._ "If that's the case, then I've had a deeply deprived childhood," L replied sardonically.

"Haven't we all," Matt's mouth curved. "A lifetime of giftedness and privilege is surprisingly depriving, don't you think?"

L didn't know if he was being sarcastic or not, so changed the subject. "What were you doing in London?"

"I was at an AI conference. Fuck me, some of the stuff they're making these days in awesome. Though, I'm pretty sure that in a year or so's time my model will surpass theirs." Matt tugged on his cigarette smugly, and spun the Chevrolet too fast round a roundabout. L, perched in his usual precarious position, fell against the passenger door. "Woops, sorry bout that," Matt said, not sounding very sorry at all.

"You should calculate the correct speed to take the corner from the braking point, turning point, apex, and position of the next corner, momentum and velocity and friction, and plan for it," L advised.

"Could do, but where's the fun in that?"

L opened his mouth to form a sarcastic reply, but shut it again. He was becoming aware that one of his character failings was to compromise enjoyment for efficiency, and that not everyone would share his views.

"I don't really follow your movements like some of the other guys do, detection has never interested me, so I have no idea why you're here and I'm picking you up. Why are you back in England?"

It was the wrong question to ask. Out of the corner of his eye, Matt saw L's face stiffen into a mask, his charcoal eyes clouding over like black clouds rolling in over a steel grey sea.

"Hey, just forget I asked," he said quickly, dropping his fag end out of the window, and reaching for another one. To his surprise, L wordlessly stole the packet from him, and put a cigarette to his lips, motioning for a lighter. "I thought you didn't smoke," Matt teased him cautiously, handing over the lighter.

"I don't." L lit it, dragged, coughed once or twice, and dragged again, not coughing this time. "I did for about a week once, to try and understand the mindset of a certain suspect."

"Course. Detection's half about psychoanalysis really, ennit?"

"Precisely."

"So if you self-analysed, why are you smoking right now?"

"Pathetically, I'm conforming to the blatantly obvious and common trope of self-destructiveness."

"How original."

"I know."

"Why do you think I smoke?"

"I don't know you well enough yet to say for certain. Though, from my limited experience of you, I'd estimate that it isn't self-destructiveness, or ignorance. You know the consequences, and you don't really desire to avoid or create them. You just like the sensation, end of story, you don't really care if your health is better or worse because of that." L toked hard on the cigarette. "I suppose the phrase would be 'not giving a fuck'."

Matt sniggered. "I can deal with that assessment."

When they reached Wammy's House, Roger came out to help them in with the bags. Once they were piled in the hall, Matt spoke.

"Hey, I know you're probably pretty fucking busy and all that, but if you ever wanna come hang out while you're here, play some video games, that would be sound." Matt smiled. "I know most people here think you're some kinda bloody superbeing, but you seem human to me and probably need some human contact. And it's been fucking boring around here since Mello left."

"Thank you," L said, attempting to smile at the younger man, but probably looking like he was grimacing. He meant the gratitude. "Mello left?"

Matt sighed, scratched his reddy-brown hair. "Yeah... pretty sure he's run off to join the fucking mafia or something. Got bored didn't he? Angry twat," he added fondly. "I miss him."

"That doesn't surprise me at all."

"But yeah, anyway, the offer's there." Matt waved, and moved off towards his rooms. "Seeya."

"Bye, Matt."

 _Alone again. Is that good or bad? I don't know_. L's mouth tasted bitter and cloying from the cigarette in the car. Jet lag begun to overwhelm him, and at three in the afternoon he sank onto his bed and slept for an unusually long time.

When he woke it was dark. Rose's face, betrayed, confused and bitter as she lay in the hospital bed appeared unbidden in his mind, and made him curl into an even tighter ball. _Should I contact her?_ He wondered. _Maybe that's a bad idea. I'm sure all their mail is vetted – they're the criminally insane after all – and what could I possibly say that would mean anything but that wouldn't give my identity away?_ (There were of course lots of things he could possibly have said, but L's formidable brain wasn't working well that week). _Perhaps she wouldn't want to see me anyway. She certainly looked angry at me when I left. I don't blame her –I failed to save her. I can't just write and say 'sorry about that, happy incarceration to you', can I? No. I cannot speak to her until I've saved her._

L showered, relishing the feeling of the water washing away the travelling grime. He wished the water could run deeper and deeper still, and wash away the oily guilt strangling his... mind? Soul? Heart? Whatever that bit was inside of him. _This is why you don't get close to people, remember? Because whether you mean to or not you break them, you break their lives, and leave them ruined or dead. However, you need someone to work with, and that's just a fact. Think about it you dopey, angsty genius. Haven't you just met a pretty good candidate? This is me giving you a mental slap in the face, and refusing to give you strawberries until you get back on that horse and win the race._

 _Okay okay,_ the dopey angsty side of L responded irritably to the more manly voices chiding him in his mind.

Post-shower, L padded quietly down the dark corridors to the kitchen, and devoured the entirety of a strawberry flan in under five minutes. Feeling somewhat better, he took a corridor he didn't normally stray down. Dark oak doors punctuated the dark oak walls, each with a name plaque screwed to it. The doors got more spaced out as the corridor went on, signifying larger rooms and the corresponding seniority and/or superiority of the occupants. Matt's was one of the largest, and with only a moment's hesitation, L knocked.

"Come in."

L entered, and analysed the room swiftly. It was cluttered and messy, but not unduly so. Bits of half-built computer, robot, and other mechanical items littered the floor. The desk was occupied with a ridiculous computer set-up that impressed even L. _So he's a tech-head for certain. That would be useful._ Matt sat in a beanbag before it, one hand delving into a box of cereal, the other somehow one-handedly playing a game with an Xbox controller. The goggled man/boy turned round very briefly.

"Fuckin'ell, didn't actually expect to see you again."

"Tell me Matt, are you good with people?"

"What's your scale? Do you want a measurement against Wammy's House standards, or against the general population?"

"Both."

"Well, for this bunch of socially retarded, self-absorbed, autistic car crashes, I'm your social butterfly. I actually _go out_ for fucks sake, like, socialising in Winchester. Me and Mello met some nice girls there." Matt grinned suggestively. "However compared to the general population, I'm a misanthropic, hermit-like nerd."

"But you can talk to normal people in a normal fashion."

Matt laughed, his gaze still fixed on the quickly ever-changing screen, as his monster-truck did flips over some technicolour jumps. "Yeah sure, I can do that."

 _This could work,_ L thought. He slouched over and took a handful of Matt's cereal – it was Frosted Flakes, and delightfully sugary.

"Mmm. That's good." He crouched down next to Matt's beanbag and watched him for a moment with interest. "I want you to work for me," he said without ceremony. To L's satisfaction, Matt didn't blink an eyelid.

"Fair. And I should do that because...?"

"You'll get to travel the world for free. You'll still get to spend a lot of your time playing games or building tech, I won't need you to do anything at least half of the day. You'll get paid very handsomely. And you'll have me for company, and who wouldn't want that," L added drolly.

"Hmm. Sounds alright. What do I have to do?"

"Keep a watch over the technical side of things for me, I can't look at everything at once. Make calls, book hotels, visit the police in disguise. Any inventions that you think might help me would come greatly in handy. Driving, if you like – I can drive of course, but I get the impression you actually enjoy it."

"You're right, I do."

"I have to warn you though, you will be in constant danger of your life. You must walk into that with open eyes."

Matt paused the video game, and set the controller down. Very deliberately, he removed his goggles, lit a fag, and looked at L coolly and directly. It turned out his eyes were deep blue. "Won't make much difference, will it?" He pointed out, indicating what must have been his 50th cigarette that day.

"Good point."

Matt inhaled deeply, and puffed out a cloud of smoke. "I'll work for you."

"Excellent."

Matt went back to the game, fag in mouth, smoking with no hands. "So, what's on the agenda first?"

L hesitated, before outlining the Kira case and what had happened to Rose. When he had finished Matt turned to him without pausing the game, and his monster-truck crashed off the side of a highway in a way that was weirdly reminiscent of Light's death.

"You're crazy, you know that?"

L nodded glumly.

"You're crazy, that crazy bitch is crazy, that whole case is fucking crazy. Do you want my advice?"

L shrugged. _I've never been spoken to like this before._

"Look, try and solve it in your free time if you want coz you're clearly madly in love with the murdering, delusional femme fatale (I'm sure she's shit-hot, I understand, don't worry man), but don't quit your day job to do it, yeah? Or you'll drive yourself even more mental. Keep solving _real_ cases too." Matt thought L looked like a lost puppy for a second, but the world's greatest detective quickly mastered himself.

"Of course, you're right. I know it's crazy. I know I've been in denial. But it's nothing I can't handle."

"Didn't think so." Matt grinned, and returned to the game once more, cursing at the upturned truck spinning its wheels on the screen.

"Very well then. We leave in two days time, get everything you need ready. I'll let you know in a couple of hours what flights to book."

"Cool."

L left, and wandered the corridors ponderously. He had been so sure that he was going to focus all his energy on saving Rose, but now he wasn't so sure. When looked at through a stranger's eyes, it was all too ridiculous. His bare feet took him to the kitchen again, and he stood in the light of the fridge, eating blueberries. _What should I do?_

 **(gap)**

Rose watched her fellow inmates half with curiosity, half with boredom. In the month that had passed at the institution she'd figured out the characters and back-stories of most of them. Half of them were dribbling, raving , muttering fiends. She knew she shouldn't despise them – it wasn't their fault they had gone mad and done terrible things – but she did. The other half of them you could have worked next to for years and never noticed anything remiss. It was these that disturbed her the most. _They remind me of Light_.

It was lunchtime, and those who were allowed out of solitary confinement were in the dinner hall, picking through, playing with, or wolfing down their food. As Rose dutifully finished her plate of whatever it was, an older woman shuffled towards her. It was Annie.

"Puzzle," she said, brandishing a piece of paper towards Rose with trembling, wrinkled hands.

Rose examined Annie's answers to the puzzle she'd given her the previous day. "Very good," she praised, and tried to smile with her eyes as well as her lips, but she wasn't great at that any more.

Annie nodded in response. She knew she'd got it right. "More," Annie demanded.

"Don't worry, I've already made you one" Rose assured, and pulled out a folded piece of paper from her pocket. The elderly lady snatched it eagerly, and walked off without another word. Rose watched her walk away, for Annie was a strange sight to behold. She was half bald due to a tendency to pull out her hair strand by strand when she was bored. Thankfully since Rose had begun giving her puzzles, that behaviour had abated somewhat. Her face was skeletal, sky blue eyes stared out of sunken sockets, and she could solve some of Rose's hardest puzzles. Not quite as hard as the one's she had sent to L all that time ago, but pretty hard nonetheless. _I wonder who she is and where she came from. I wonder what she's done._

It was the closest thing to curiosity Rose had felt in days. She was listless, apathetic, stagnant. Once upon a time Rose would have knocked out the guards, jacked the security systems and got out of there in minutes, but she didn't want to live a life on the run from the law anymore. _That would be far too much effort._ Doing anything seemed like climbing a mountain.

Once a week at her obligatory therapy session she'd frustrate her therapist by refusing to talk about anything properly, and refusing to admit that the shinigami could have been a delusion.

"I know what I saw," she'd say stubbornly. Though inside, she doubted it herself.

 _I'm alone in a loony bin. L has abandoned me because he thinks I've gone mad, and there's a hidden homicidal maniac inside me. Hell, maybe I have and I do. What difference does it make, I'm still here. Maybe one day I'll have the energy to lie, and tell my therapist that 'oh yes it was a delusion after all, I realise now', and have the effort to lie my way out of here, but for now, what's the point? L's gone, I'm a murderer. Once I'm out I'll still be friendless, alone, and to top it off completely unemployable. There's nothing waiting for me on the outside._

... _Thanks for reading = ] Thoughts? What dya reckon to my take on Matt?_


	36. Chapter 36: The Captain Changes Course

"Cunt!"

Matt flicked over his king, and relit the cigarette hanging from his mouth. Checking the time, L rubbed his toes together with satisfaction.

"Mmm, that game took 23 minutes, you're getting better you know. When we first did this I beat you in 6 moves," L praised and teased simultaneously, monotone. They'd been playing one game of chess a day for over two weeks.

"I'm just not used to this kind of game. Play one of my games, and I'd beat you easily you cocky shite."

"Hmm, we'll find out," L smirked, and slid out of the armchair he was occupying to look at his computer. Matt followed suit, and took up at his own technological station.

They were in Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria, attempting to track the leader of a sex trafficking operation who was purportedly based there. The operation was taking advantage of the conflict in Turkey to kidnap kids of the ages of 8 to 11, and traffick them up into Europe to illegal brothels. It was their sixth case and their fourth country since working together – almost three months had passed.

"Our rat says that there's a truck incoming in the pm tomorrow."

"Excellent. I think we should plan to intercept and interrogate the driver, it's time to let them know that we mean business. I'm certain that the leader is Andrian Sobolev, all we need is a confession from a subordinate like him to seal the deal. Go to the police in the morning, I'll tell them to get a stealth team together."

"Sure thing boss."

"Any news from Japan?" He asked half-heartedly. At the advice of Matt, L hadn't pursued the problem himself, but rather employed several hundred people to discreetly comb every public area in Japan for any sign of a 'Death Note' hidden somewhere. They'd found some interesting hidden items, but no Death Notes. As each day went by with nothing he became less and less hopeful of any kind of result.

It looked like Kira's killings had stopped for good. A deep social chasm had opened between the people who rejoiced and the people who cursed this fact, and this dichotomy had prevented the Japanese government from either extending Rose's sentence or redeeming her, for fear of antagonising the other half of the populace. Nobody knew what to think – nobody understood what had happened, or why, and it had all ended up in an atmosphere of barely-concealed tension and anticlimax.

The worst thing was Rose's face was beginning to fade from his memory again, despite its photographic capabilities. Every time he thought of her it was a little hazier. _Was that freckle above her right or her left cheekbone? What was the curvature of her jaw? No. It's gone._

"Nothing." Matt responded after checking the communication channels.

"Very well."

Three days passed. L of course had been right about Andrian Sobolev heading the trafficking operation. The captured driver gave up a statement willingly when he realised his choice was between the humane treatment at the hands of the distant detective, or the brutality of the Bulgarian police. They stayed another night in Sofia planning where to go next, and at half past four L curled up on his bed to sleep.

 _The wind howled. Droplets of rain cut into him like bullets, but his large hat protected his eyes. He strode the deck, cutlass swinging by his side, dripping gas lamps illuminating portions of the saturated deck. The sails were out, and the ship appeared to be steering itself, rocking nauseatingly from side to side. But he was the captain and had strong sea legs; no trifling storm could make him stumble._

 _Rows of people lined the edge of the boat, clutching the wooden rails in an attempt to keep their balance. Another small posse of people followed behind him. He paused by each person along the deck to pass them judgement._

" _Innocent," he decreed, and the first man fell sobbing onto his knees in gratitude._

" _Guilty," he judged of the second, and pushed the man over the rails into the roiling black ocean._

" _Guilty. Innocent. Guilty. Guilty. Innocent. Guilty. Innocent. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty."_

" _Err, captain?"_

" _Yes?" He turned to see a young man bowing to him obsequiously, his thin clothes plastered to him by the rain._

" _There's still another in the hold."_

" _Take me to them."_

 _Without having to walk there they were suddenly in the dingy hold, the area at the far end behind the bars opaque with darkness. Then out of the darkness, with a blood curdling familiarity, came the sound of words._

" _Lies! Why are you protecting him? It can't be to save yourself – you're in a more compromised position now than any legal detective would put you in. What's the matter? Do you have some kind of feeling of loyalty to this mysterious detective? Well it's clearly misplaced – look where you are, and precious L hasn't come to save you."_

" _Boy, fetch me a light!" He demanded desperately of the wretched man beside him. "You in there, show yourself!" The hissing female voice continued the words that he remembered horribly well._

" _Tell me what you know about L!"_

 _Horribly, a yet more familiar voice gasped in the darkness._

" _You know why I won't tell you? Because he's a better person than I could ever be. And if I have to die to protect him then I will. It's what I deserve."_

 _The woman hissed. "Pathetic. Is that your final answer?"_

" _Yes, it's my final answer. Are you going to kill me now?"_

" _No!" He rushed forward, somehow gliding through the metal bars, and all became illuminated as water began gurgling up through the floor. Ruth Fetter cackled and dived down into the water, swimming like an eel. Rose's face, in all its beautiful detail, stared up at him in pain. He clutched her cheeks, savouring the sight of her, but seawater was rising up all around them._

 _Drowning drowning drowning drowning drowning DROWNING DROWNING DROWNING-_

L woke up gasping and clutching his throat, raggedly dragging in huge breaths of air. _Urgh. I'm drenched in sweat._ To his regret Rose's face was quickly fading from his mind already. He lay back down, one hand on his heart, and attempted to slow down his breathing. It shuddered slowly to a more reasonable pace, and when it did, he sprung out of bed and almost ran to Matt's room, switching on the light.

"Argh, what the fuck man?" Matt protested at the sudden glaring light, burying his head under the blanket, "I'm sleeping!"

"Well you're not anymore. Get up," L commanded, "and change the flights. We're going to Japan."

 **(gap)**

The cherry tree in Kiyomi Takada's back garden sent silky petals of pink and white spiralling down to the floor. Blossom got stuck in L's ebony hair as he crouched on the steps leading down from the backdoor. The house still hadn't been sold. _Obviously. Who wants to live in a house where a highly publicised murder took place – this building is veritably haunted for the rest of time._ It was still owned by the Takada family , and they hadn't moved a single thing out of the house, though it had been over three months.

 _This is where it happened_. The garden was beautiful, beginning to look untamed and all the better for it, but L could feel death in the air. _Would I feel it if I didn't know what had happened here?_

He sat there for who knows how long, soaking in the spring sunshine and pondering thoroughly. _If I were Kiyomi Takada, where would I hide my weapon? Not on my property, that's for sure. And not so far away that I couldn't get to it very quickly if I needed. Yes, it's in this neighbourhood if it's anywhere._

He picked the lock of the back door and entered. The house was dusty and peaceful, the air undisturbed for weeks, and he trod silently through to Kiyomi's bedroom. L brushed his hand along the desk, examining and memorising the contents. _Aah, there. That's what I'm after._ He picked up Kiyomi's professional diary and quietly left the house.

Back at the hotel L rifled through the diary obsessively. It had an address book at the back, too, and in just under an hour he'd memorised the entire thing. Matt was playing Skyrim on his left, exploring an icy wilderness. L cross-referenced his mental picture of the diary and address book with maps of the suburban area around Kiyomi's house.

"All the public areas have been thoroughly searched," he mused aloud, stroking his lip pensively. "But what about private places?"

"Loada bollocks, that's what I think."

"I wasn't asking your opinion."

Matt grinned. "I know."

"Get me the governmental records for these people – I want everything, even medical records."

"You're highly unethical, you know that?"

"I do, please get me the records."

"Sure thing."

After a few more minutes, L began musing aloud again. Matt watched the slightly older, gangly man out of the corner of his eye, perched like a bird on his seat. In his entire time working with L, he had never seen him so absorbed and intent.

"There's only five households that Kiyomi Takada frequents in her neighbourhood. Three are good friends, with families that have two or more children. You'd be an idiot to hide something in a house with children – they're so small and unpredictable, and kids always know all the hiding places on their property. No, she wouldn't go there. The other two are what you might call 'charitable missions', the sort of visits that famous people do to look like benevolent do-gooders to the media, and to salve their own consciences. One is a disabled boy and his carer, the other is a solitary elderly lady with badly progressing cataracts – she's half blind already. These would be much better choices."

"If you say so." Matt's avatar was now investigating a cave.

"I'm going to visit them both tomorrow."

"Shouldn't we send someone else?"

"Probably," L admitted. "But in this instance I want to go myself. I owe it."

"Batshit."

"I'll have you know I have a highly attuned intuition."

"Batshit."

"I'm never wrong. Well, when it comes to detection I'm not."

"Batshit."

"If you say so." L licked chocolate off a donut. There was a strange bubbling excitement rising in the pit of his stomach. _There'll be no sleep tonight._

 _Thanks for reading = ] have a nice evening x_


	37. Chapter 37: Emancipation

_Sorry it's been a long time, I was camping for a few days for the summer solstice = ] This is going to be my penultimate chapter! I have some great ideas for where this story should go, but I'll be simply too busy to write much for a while, so I'm gonna bring it to a sort of conclusion for now, and pick it up if I get time again, possibly in July._

 _Thank you for the lovely reviews from those couple of people who've done so, it means a lot = ] and Geekatheart21 I'm glad you enjoyed the sea-captain L, it was such a brilliant image when it popped into my mind that I just had to use it xD Anyway, onto the important bit. I hope you enjoy x_

Curled on his side in the expansive hotel bed, L stared into the darkness of the room. He could vaguely make out the ornate dresser, mirror, and laundry basket turned uniform dark grey by the lack of light. All had been still for several minutes, but after some time a slender, top-heavy grey shape emerged straight out of the wall. L stiffened, didn't move a muscle. _Am I dreaming? Or am I awake?_

As he watched, the two, bat-wing-like shapes sticking out either side of the figure receded towards the central column, leaving a more humanlike shape. The shape moved forward, passing into the brighter segment of room where streetlight and starlight reached through the window. L pushed himself up into a crouch and faced the bizarre beast that had materialised in front of him. The round unrelenting eyes held his gaze mockingly, expressing a consciousness far different to any he had beheld before. The fanged smile taunted him. There was, bizarrely, a heart-shaped earring hanging from its ear. _What on earth is the significance of that?_

"Shinigami," he whispered.

The monster inclined its head slightly. "So it's YOU that found it. L."

"You've seen me before?"

"True."

"When?"

"When I was following Light."

"Aaah. I see."

"To be honest I'm disappointed. Light let himself be fooled by Kiyomi, Kiyomi let herself be killed by Rose, after both of them assuring me they'd provide excellent entertainment. Well it turns out both were pretty... boring. My name's Ryuk by the way."

The grin never faltered, even while he spoke. L had never felt so unnerved by a face, and chewed the tip of his thumb to hide his panic. "I know your name. Are you telling me this has all been for entertainment?"

"Pretty much. If you'd been to the Shinigami realm you'd understand." Ryuk cackled. "So tell ME L, are you going to be more fun?" His eyes gleamed red. "I mean, you already sentence people to death all the time, so why not just cut the middle man and do it all yourself?"

L shifted uncomfortably, scrunching his toes together and looking away. "It's different."

"Not really. I think that's why you and Light fought so much – you were just too similar, weren't you? You were basically handcuffed to yourself, and you didn't like what you found." Ryuk cackled again.

 _Urgh. True. Why do people keep insisting on pointing out my already obvious faults?_ After taking a few deep breaths, the sickness in his stomach settled. L's bottomless black eyes rose to meet Ryuk's inscrutable red ones, and he held his look calmly. "You may be right. Light and I had many similarities, rather more than I would like, but we have differences too."

"Like what?"

L stroked his lip. "There are many differences, and different voices in my head give different answers," he said after a while. "There is one voice inside me that says the difference between me and Light is that I don't need a magical notebook to bring ultimate justice to the world – I can do that all by myself, without supernatural help." L's eyes flashed dangerously. "I am what the world needs. I didn't want to be, but I am. Light was the other round – he wanted to be what the world needs, but wasn't. Globally, justice relies on L. Light just wanted to be me." L's face softened. "But there's another voice in my head that says the difference between me and Light is that Light lost his humanity in his desire to be God – sympathy, feeling, love, any connection to other beings was entirely lost in his quest. Perhaps he'd never had that connection, and had been a living lies for his whole life, a human chameleon, I don't know. Despite everything, that's a connection I haven't lost. I thought for a while that I had, but despite how alien others find me (and how alienated I find myself), it turns out the humanity is still there. I even have two real friends now." His lips curled in a small smile.

"I like the first answer better," Ryuk grinned. "Don't really understand all that humanity stuff."

"I wouldn't expect you to." L stood up on the bed. It made him about the same height as Ryuk. "Shinigami." His voice was louder now, and rang with authority. "Once I have proved your existence and Rose's innocence, you will go back from whence you came. Your game is over."

 **(gap)**

Rose stared languidly out of one of the barred windows in the dining room. The spring blossom coated the institution's concrete drive and was beginning to get damp and brown as the light, misty rain fell upon it. Behind her she could hear the clatter of inmates' cutlery on plates, and the boring babble of subdued voices humming.

A gleaming black car was approaching, the engine purred. Two suited men got out, and they disappeared out of sight as they walked to the entrance, but Rose kept listlessly staring out of the window at the grey and green scene.

Shortly however a slight rise in the babble behind her made her turn round. The two men in identical black suits had come into the dining room, and were talking to the attendant. They had earpieces in their right ears, and badges on their lapels that Rose couldn't quite make out. Without warning they both turned and stared directly at her, and she jolted in shock. _They're walking towards me now. What the hell? What's going on?_

When they were standing before her, Rose got to her feet and bowed a little. The shorter man spoke.

"Emily Stanton-san, we are here as representatives of the Japanese government. You must come with us. New information regarding your case has arisen, and you must give witness once more."

A tiny bubble of hope welled up in Rose, but she bit it down cautiously. _Could it be?_

She followed them out to the shiny car, and got in. The seats were real leather, and smelt weird. Once inside, the shorter man swivelled in his seat to speak again.

"We couldn't tell you in there, but the Death Note and Shinigami have been found. Obviously this is classified information. The Japanese government has deemed it wise not to let the public know of this development, it would only cause panic and confusion or downright disbelief, and that's not something any nation needs. But to all intents and purposes, you're cleared. The government wishes to absolve you of the crime of Takada-san's murder, for the service you have done the world."

Rose choked out a gasp. _Is this a dream?_ It seemed real enough. _I wasn't mad after all! I'm not mad, I'm not mad! And I'm free! FREE! What about L?_ "Did L find it?" She asked, as casually as she could muster through her flustered mind.

"Yes."

"And do you know where he is?" she asked, a little too excitedly.

The men laughed. "Don't be silly, nobody knows that."

Rose, hidden behind the seats, didn't need to stop her face looking crestfallen. _Obviously. Three months of incarceration seems to have weakened my mind._ "Of course."

 **(gap)**

Several hours later she was returned to her flat. The last few hours had passed in a blur as she was brought in front of Ryuk to verify him as the Shinigami she'd encountered with Kiyomi Takada. _It's done. It's over._

As she pushed open the door she half expected to see a strange owl-like man to turn to her from the sofa, but just like last time, it was empty. _This is surreal. Nothing has changed here, but I've changed. I don't feel like I fit here anymore. I feel too big for the room, or too small for it, or something. The wrong shape._ She trod slowly into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

"OUGHWERRR," she spluttered, and shoved the door closed again, for the most powerfully revolting smelt had spilled out of the fridge, almost making her throw up. Three months of decay had not made it pretty in there. _Seriously, does no one think about that sort of detail when the occupant is imprisoned?_

She sat on a chair at the dining table and stared out of the window. The members of government had informed her after the inquest that she couldn't remain in the country – as far as the Japanese public were concerned, everyone must think that Emily Stanton was still in the mental hospital. They'd issued her a new ID, British, to match her birth country. _My third complete alias. I'm beginning to lose track._ Then they'd asked her which country to book her flight to. In her panic she'd said America, not wanting to go back to where The Group could find her, but not feeling up to learning another new language quite yet. _Why wasn't L's computer at the inquest? And now I'm going to leave in the morning, and he doesn't know where I'm going. If he's even still here._

Without intending to she found herself nodding off at the table, and Rose's head drooped towards the table like a wilting flower. However as it almost reached the wooden surface a brisk knock on the door awakened her sharply, and she tensed with nervousness. _How does somebody know I'm here?_

She opened the door cautiously, and was shocked to see Watari's trench-coat and fedora standing in the corridor. A gloved hand reached up and removed the hat, revealing a boy between the ages of 19 and 21 with reddy-brown hair, yellow-tinted goggles, a slightly freckly pale complexion, and an unlit cigarette hanging between his full lips. The boy grinned, swapping the cigarette to his teeth.

"Nice to meet you," he said in English, "Ryuzaki's told me all about you." His eyes searched her face for a moment, before nodding appreciatively. "He's got good taste."

"Who are you?" Rose asked warily, refusing to open the door fully.

"Chill your beans, I'm the new Watari. His majesty has sent me to request the company of his dear damsel in distress, and chauffeur said beautiful maiden to the castle; if it pleases her to accept his invitation." The boy gave a flamboyant bow.

A smile tugged at her lips involuntarily but she hid it quickly, and hooked her leg beneath his ankle before he could react, pulling his legs out from under him so he fell into a crumpled heap on the floor.

"Ow fuckin'ell, what was that for?"

"Don't call me a damsel in distress," Rose said quietly, trying not to alert the neighbours to her presence. _I can't bear the current truth of the title._ "How do I know if I can trust you, boy?"

The boy sat up, lit the fag that was still between his lips, and puffed it. "He said you'd say that. And he said that when you say that, I must tell you something that only he and the Shinigami know to prove my honesty – your name." The youth stood up and leant in towards her. Rose stiffened defensively, but he was only whispering in her ear. "It's Rose."

 _It must be true_. _Either that, or I'm dead already. I may as well trust him_. "Okay," she agreed eventually. "I trust you. Take me to him." _And when I get there I'm going to fucking stab him, the avoidant evasive second-guessing absent wonderful elusive confusing bastard._

 _... Thanks for reading! Oooh I'm looking forward to writing the next chapter, it's gonna get juicy ;)_


	38. Chapter 38: Intertwining

_Sorry I didn't post this yesterday, it ended up being a longer chapter than I expected it to be so I had to come back and finish it this afternoon = ]_ _You're right nofreakingway, the last one was slightly too rushed, but as you can probably imagine that was because I myself was quite rushed for time that day :L Thanks for the kind reviews. Without further ado, here's the (temporary) concluding chapter!_

The boy's car weaved – slightly too quickly – towards the city centre, and into the Chuo Ward. They exchanged a few pleasantries, but nothing significant. Rose learned that he was known as Matt. Though she scrutinised her feelings carefully, she couldn't decide how she felt towards Matt. On one hand he seemed funny and smart, a decent guy. On the other hand she resented him. _He's effectively stolen my job. Or rather, L has given away my job incredibly quickly. Prick._

The towers of Tokyo reared up around them, smooth, shining and imposing, and Matt drew up behind one such skyscraper towards the private entrance of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. An attendant ushered them in, smiling, and escorted them in the lift up to the Sky Lobby. The Japanese minimalist style, even though expressed in the most lavish materials – expensive woods, stone, glass, fabrics – meant that the opulence of the place didn't appear excessive or distasteful. A few well-dressed men and women of all nationalities passed through the high-ceilinged lobby talking in low, calm voices. _Thank god I remembered to put on more appropriate clothes this time. I mean, I've got a dress and makeup on at least, though it's hardly of the quality or price that would blend in here. For fucks sake, why does he insist on staying in such fancy hotels?_ Every thought about L seemed to make her more enraged at him, so by the time they were taking the next lift up to suite 148, Rose was silently vibrating with fury, and couldn't concentrate on anything Matt was saying.

Matt used his pass-card to open the door of the deluxe suite, and it swung open in well-oiled silence. Had she not been so enraged Rose would have taken in the gorgeous minimalist furnishings in sophisticated, richly textured browns, greys, blacks, whites and burnished gold, or the breathtaking view of glittering central Tokyo in the floor-to-ceiling windows, but she noticed none of it. All she could see was the skinny, raven-haired man that had slipped off the sofa at their arrival onto his feet.

L found himself lost for words for a moment. Then some words fell out of his mouth. "Rose. I'm so glad you're here. I was thinking we could go for dinner, but you're a bit late, though we could always-"

He was interrupted by a small elegant pot hurtling towards him; L ducked, and the pot smashed into several pieces against the wall. Matt backed quickly out of the room into his smaller bedroom with an alarmed expression, mumbling something like he'd 'leave them to it'.

"I'M A BIT LATE?" Rose fumed, picking up another elegant pot, and over-arming it hard towards the retreating detective. "You've always been 'a bit late', L." She waved her mutilated hand in front of him. "You were 'a bit late' when this was happening if you recall, and you were a bit bloody late this time as well, weren't you? Don't try and kid me that you were working on the case for the entire three months!"

L reared his head cautiously over the back of the sofa, so just his hair, forehead and eyes were visible. "I take full responsibility for the first time, but this time, you must understand it from my perspective! I'm a creature of reason and logic – believing in Shinigami is not something people of reason and logic do."

Rose growled and paced towards the sofa, making L stand up and back towards the wall warily. "But believing I was deranged WAS reasonable and logical? Fuck you, I thought you thought more of me!" She took the last step towards him, and slapped him hard round the face. L made no move to block it or roll away to avoid the worst of the impact, tensing his neck to receive the full force of her hand. His eye watered, his cheek burned and stung.

As she watched the flush of blood slowly turn one side of his face pink and the salt water seep out of one eye, some of the rage in Rose dissipated. "Why didn't you contact me?" She asked quietly, with bitterness, but far calmer now.

"I didn't want to contact you just to bear bad news. I didn't want to just say, 'hello there, sorry I can't get you out yet', I thought it would just make it harder."

Rose shook her head in consternation, and pushed his shoulder, but not very hard. "You idiot. Silence was WAY harder. I thought you'd abandoned me in that place for good."

L shook his head back at her, his eyes flashing darkly. "I almost did. Matt said I was crazy to try and get you out. But I changed my mind."

Rose's eyes narrowed. "Then it seems I've got a serious bone to pick with that boy."

"Go easy on him, there's at least a 70% chance that he can't take pain like I can." L's face danced with wicked amusement. A few burst blood vessels were started to colour his cheekbone purple, and it almost blended in with the half-moon shadows of sleep-deprivation beneath his eyes. Rose touched his cheek gently, and he winced.

"Sorry."

"Sorry."

Apologies exchanged, the (somewhat one-sided) argument was over, for both L and Rose were far too 'reasonable and logical' to hold grudges for long. What was the point in clinging to unnecessary and impractical negative emotions? They stood regarding each other for a moment, drinking in the sight, relearning all the details of each other's faces, noticing the minute details that had changed. L noticed that Rose's muscles were a little less defined, her whole body softer and more feminine. _She must not have been training in the institution._ Rose noticed the solitary grey strand of hair in the black mess on L's head. _Is that new, or did I just never notice it before?_

"Are you hungry?"

"Ravenous."

"I'll see if they're still serving." A quick call was made. "They're serving for another hour." L scratched his right leg with his left foot ponderously. "Hmm. I should probably take a shower. It's been... a while, since I last had one," he confessed in monotone, "what with Ryuk appearing, etcetera etcetera."

"Go on, then. I'll wait."

L disappeared into the suite's bathroom, and Rose sunk onto the sofa, yawning. _Being angry is tiring. Maybe that's why I don't bother doing it very often._ A door at the opposite end of the room opened a crack, and Matt's head poked timidly out.

"Is the bombing over?"

"Yes. All clear."

"Thank fuck for that."

He swung the door open and walked in, lighting a cigarette. Rose pulled a face. "Do you have to do that indoors? I don't want to choke on your vice."

"Mmm, I'm pretty sure I die if I don't have a cigarette at least twice an hour, so I do have to do it. But I'll stand by a window if you like." Matt went to a small window, not the floor-to-ceiling wall of glass, and opened it.

"Why did you tell him not to search for the Death Note?"

Matt shrugged. "I thought you were a crazy psycho bitch. Hell, maybe you are, but at least you didn't imagine that Shinigami, ey?"

Rose frowned, but she didn't feel that angry anymore. He'd done what most sensible people would do. Matt finished the cigarette and dropped it out of the window.

"Well, I'm gonna hit town. Mr Hermit in there might not like going out, but I do, and I sure don't wanna be rolling around like a third wheel while you two get canoodling, so seeya later."

Rose was about to protest that there would be no such thing, but shut her mouth again, just in case it would be a lie. After a few minutes of sitting alone, L came out of the bathroom. There was a large white towel around his waist, and a smaller white towel draped over his head. His hair, locks of it plastered to his face, was dripping rivulets of water onto his collarbones, and they traced downwards over the pale, taut skin of his chest and stomach, finally resting at the top of the large white towel that clung to his hip bones. Rose's eyes locked on him and couldn't move. _Why is he allowed to be so devilishly sexy? And yet the towel on his head has such a disarming effect, it makes him look ridiculously adorable at the same time. You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're playing with fire L, you better move out of this room quickly, else I'm going to eat you alive_.

L observed the desirous glow in Rose's eyes with joy. _Excellent. That was the look I was hoping for._ "Sorry if I took a long time," he drawled nonchalantly.

"Not at all."

"I'll just find some clothes."

"That's a very good idea," Rose replied, thinking that it was actually a very terrible idea. L strolled into a walk-in cupboard hidden by discreet Japanese doors, and Rose spent a moment employing various meditative techniques to clear her mind and assuage her unbidden lust. It helped a little bit. Once back in blue jeans and long-sleeved white t-shirt L returned, and they walked in relative silence to one of the restaurant areas, a fairly narrow strip of tables lining a glass wall that revealed a magnificent 180 degree view of the city. One diner wrinkled his nose rudely at L's incongruous appearance, but most politely ignored them.

Food ordered – a couple of exotic puddings for L, some main course with fish that Rose had basically picked at random from the menu – they sipped at their sake, and alternately gazed out of the window or at each other. Rose felt shy in front of him all over again. _In a way I know him quite well, and yet I still feel like I barely know him at all. What truly goes behind those eyes?_

"So what happens now?" He asked.

"I feel like it should be me asking that question."

"Yes it should, but since you were failing to speak I thought I'd ask it for you."

"Oi!" Rose swung her leg to kick him gently, but of course his feet were tucked up on the chair and her leg glided uneventfully through empty air. "So... what happens now?"

"I'm aware that the Japanese government have given you a new identity," he said in a very low voice, so that nearby diners wouldn't hear. "What do I call you these days?"

"Fern Williams."

"Fern. Suits you more than Emily."

"Yes, I think so too."

"I'm also aware that they've booked you a flight to America at 10am tomorrow."

Rose's head sunk in acknowledgement.

"So I suppose I should let you know that I got Matt to book you a seat with us back to England, too, if you decide to. I think it's been long enough for The Group to have given up trying to find you." L searched her face hesitantly, but Rose's expression was unreadable. "I know originally I only asked you to work with me on the Kira case, but I wish to extend that invitation. To however long you like."

 _Why are you saying this, L?_ "But Ryuzaki, you have a new Watari now. My role is redundant, you don't need me."

"Need you?" L looked flummoxed. "Of course I don't need you. I want you. I want to have you with me."

"Oh." Rose felt herself blush slightly, and she stared out of the window. After a moment's thought she sighed, and turned inwards again. "I don't know, Ryuzaki." Her eyes were wide with sorrow. "I'm not sure how much more of this life I can take. To be honest I led a safer life in the underworld, before I met you." She laughed.

"I understand." His voice was mournful, his lips just hinting at a pout, which he was clearly trying to restrain.

"Hey, look, don't ask me to decide right now. Ask me again in the morning."

The food arrived, and they steered clear of anything serious for the rest of the meal. Rose told funny/disturbing/interesting tales of her fellow inmates in the mental institution, especially Annie, and L stroked his lip thoughtfully.

"We should look her up. See where she came from."

"We should, it's piqued my curiosity for weeks."

After a while their bowls were spooned clean. They walked out to the corridor and lingered awkwardly. _Which way am I going?_ Rose pondered. _I promised him that I wouldn't go near him until he proved that he would commit properly. I can't go back on that, it would be weak._

"Would you care to stay a little longer? After all, you were so hospitable to me for so long, I can only attempt to repay the favour." _Dammit, my voice STILL sounds sarcastic when I'm being serious._

"I should probably pack my things," Rose said – regretfully, for it felt like L's eyes were pinning her to the spot, and she wanted nothing more than to succumb to those eyes.

But at her words his face clouded over, blank. "As you wish. Let me know your decision in good time – we leave at 9am."

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Rose turned around with difficulty, and trod towards the lift. It hummed downwards through the floors. 48. 47. 46. 45. A strange pressure was building inside Rose's head. 44. 43. A suited man got in, and pressed for floor 38, the Sky Lobby. 42. 41. 40. 39. The pressure was building. 38. 37. The doors hissed open, and the man stepped out. As the disembodied female lift-voice announced the doors were closing, Rose gave a cry and jumped through the doors as they slid shut, out into the Sky Lobby, and pressed 'up' on the second elevator. It took an interminably long time to arrive, but finally it move up, up, up and opened onto the floor containing room 148, deluxe suite.

Rose knocked loudly on the door, and after a few seconds L opened it. She stepped in, pushed the door shut behind her, caught his un-bruised cheek in her hand, and kissed him firmly. He stood back, looked briefly surprised, and then grinned.

"I knew that would work – I figured if I let you leave that easy you wouldn't be able to do it."

"Of course it worked," Rose growled softly, "especially after you made sure to show me earlier what I couldn't have, you sly bastard."

L's eyes widened innocently. "I can assure you, this was all without design."

"Yeah right." Rose moved towards him and placed her hands on his waist, pushing him backwards slowly towards the generous bed until his legs knocked against it. She leant him backwards gently until his was lying down, straddled him, squeezing his narrow waist between her thighs, and brushed his hair aside to kiss his neck softly. That two-levelled smell filled her nose, strawberries and dark musk. It was delicious, good enough to eat, and she interspersed her kisses with gentle bites. She felt his whole body tense beneath her, felt and heard his breath in her ear as he gasped with pleasure.

"Too many clothes," Rose decreed, and kicked off her shoes, pulling his t-shirt up over his head and off.

"I couldn't agree more," L concurred hoarsely, and subsequently pulled Rose's dress over her head and off. As they began kissing again he found his ability to move and rolled her off him onto her back, leaning on his hands above her. To L Rose was so soft, so supple, so undulating and curved compared to his own thin, rigid body, and the softness was delectable. He didn't know how to soak in more of her, with his eyes, with his hands or with his lips, so he tried all of them, squeezing and stroking her gently, running a line of kisses down over her shoulder, her chest, her soft stomach. The shuddering of her breath and her hand gripped hard in his hair was the most pleasing reward.

"Too many clothes," Rose whispered again, and reached for his trousers.

L leant back for a moment, hesitant. Rose looked at him in confusion. "What's wrong?" _Does he not want this after all?_

"It's just... I've ever done this before," he admitted, and colour flowed into his cheeks. "I mean, obviously I'm fully versed in human anatomy, and I have a solid theoretical grasp of all the principles of intercourse, but-"

"Shut up," Rose grinned, and pulled him back down towards her. "You'll be just fine."

Soon they were as naked as Adam and Eve, limbs pressed together, hands tangled in hair, every part of them interlocked and intertwined, tessellated. L had never considered such an explosion of feeling could be possible, his whole body rushed with shuddering delight. Rose's open mouth panting ,reaching to kiss him, her wide eyes gazing up at him with the most beautiful vulnerability, the delicate noises coming out of her throat... they were the most delicious thing he'd ever seen, and he felt irresistibly compelled to press into her further making the gentle noises turn to gasps. Rose saw the wildness she'd always seen drifting at the back of his eyes escape and take him over, a passionate hunger and drive filling his purposeful movements, and she revelled in it, clinging to his shoulders and his dark hair in the heat and the sweat and the pleasure.

Some time later L buried his head into her shoulder, groaning, and biting down accidentally as the explosions of feeling throughout his body rose in a crescendo, bringing it to a shuddering, shaking end. Hearts racing, limbs quivering, skin sweating, they lay crumpled and exhausted in each other's arms.

Time seemed to stop for a while. All that existed was the tingling warmth of each other's bodies, the comfortable mattress beneath them, and their minds and hearts awash with contented satisfaction.

"How was that?" L whispered into her neck.

"Not bad, for a virgin," she teased gently. It had in fact been the first sex she'd ever truly enjoyed, but Rose didn't want to inflate his ego TOO much.

"Hmm. I'll be better next time. I'm a quick learner."

"I know you are."

"I'm estimating that by maybe the fifth, or at most the sixth time we do this, I'll be the best sexual partner you've ever had."

Rose grinned into his hair. "I'd expect nothing less, o thou of equal perfectionism to me." They exchanged a few lazy kisses. L drew his head back, and looked at her. His mouth had downturned, and his bottomless eyes had troubled-ness swimming in their depths.

"You told me in that park that you wouldn't go near me until I'd proven I could commit to you properly. What changed your mind? I've come up with three likely scenarios but you're complex, Rose, and even I can't tell which is the truth."

"I don't really know," Rose confessed. "I was in the lift, and this pressure was building in my head, and I knew that if I didn't come back upstairs, it wouldn't go away. It was like some kind of subconscious warning system – I HAD to come back, I had to listen to it, like a fire bell or burglar alarm or something."

"Hmm. I see." L yawned, and curled over on his side. "Have you made your decision yet?" he asked sleepily, as Rose turned over too, curling up between his arms.

"No. Ask me in the morning," Rose replied, equally dozily. In a matter of minutes they'd drifted off into a deep, satisfying sleep.

 _Haha I was really hoping this would end on the 37_ _th_ _chapter like the anime series, but didn't quite work out! And, I know it's a little bit of a cliffhanger, so sorry about that!_

 _Thank you very much for reading, a massive shout out to WildfireDreams who's been with me from the start, and AuroraStargazers and Destiny246 who joined a little later but who have also given me fantastic encouragement with regular reviews, it's meant a lot to me. Cheers to everyone else who's reviewed/favourited/followed this, much love! May every single reader have splendid lives until I return, peace x_


	39. Chapter 39: Interesting

_Hello reader, I'm back for a little bit before going on holiday in August, there'll be at least five or six chapters before the end of July which I'll mostly post after Tuesday next week, so without further ado, here it is, I hope you enjoy!_

An alarm on her phone tore Rose rudely out of sleep. She groaned. _Go away, go away!_ A warm slender arm reached over her and hit the alarm off.

"So... have you made your decision?" Drawled L's voice, several pitches lower than usual, his vocal chords clinging onto the relaxation they'd enjoyed whilst asleep.

Rose blinked her eyes open. L lay on his side, half-curled up and partly covered by the sheets. The nape of his neck curving into his bare shoulder was pale, smooth and vulnerable looking. With a rush of memory she recalled the previous evening's events, and suddenly felt much more awake.

"I'm coming with you."

"Excellent." L leapt upright and out of the bed immediately, pulling clothes on with lightening speed. "We have twenty minutes before we have to leave."

"Twenty minutes?" Rose was aghast. "Surely we can't have-"

"Yes, that's right." L had finished getting dressed, and turned to her with a sparkle in his eye. "Rose my friend, we just slept for four entire sleep cycles. Six hours."

Rose pulled herself out of bed, shaking her head with disbelief. Suddenly, and inexplicably, she was rather self-conscious of her nakedness, and turned away to dress.

"I packed up the equipment yesterday, so we don't have much to do. I'll send for some breakfast. Wake up Matt when you're dressed."

A couple of minutes later Rose washed her face in the bathroom, and stared at herself in the mirror. _What does this mean?_ She silently asked the face staring back at her. _Are we 'together' in any way? Or was that just something that happened?_ Rose wasn't even entirely sure what she wanted. Somehow anyone being in a 'relationship' with L, even if it were herself, seemed wrong. It just wouldn't suit him. She could barely imagine _herself_ being a 'girlfriend', let alone imagine him being a 'boyfriend'. The thought of L taking her on dates, or them watching movies together, 'hanging out' and whispering lovey-dovey things to each other, or any of those other things that young lovers were supposed to do, was so absurd that Rose's mouth twisted with amusement. The girl in the mirror smiled back at her. _Let's just wait and see, shall we?_

As Rose left the bathroom and approached the secondary bedroom, she heard an unexpected noise. Female laughter. A female was laughing – no, giggling – inside the room. _So none of us slept alone last night._ Rose knocked. Her knock on the door seemed to go unnoticed, so sighing with impatience, she opened the door.

"Aaaah!" a young woman squealed, and pulled the covers over her and Matt very quickly. "You can't just come bursting in like that, how rude!"

"Then you should've listened to my knocking," Rose countered, and eyed up the girl suspiciously. She looked Japanese, but had immaculately dyed blonde hair. Black mascara and eyeliner had smudged around her eyes, and there was a trace of pink lipstick on both of their mouths. She was without a doubt very gorgeous, in a cute sort of way with her snub nose and wide childish eyes, but she clearly knew it.

"Fern-kun, this is Misa Amane-kun," Matt said, stroking the girl's hair. "She's a famous model," he added proudly. Misa Amane gave Rose a glowing smile, before squealing and wriggling around as Matt's other hand, hidden by the covers, reached somewhere rather more inappropriate. Rose pulled a face at Matt.

"That's all well and good, but we've got to leave. Nice to meet you Amane-san, but you have to go, immediately, or we'll miss our flight."

Misa pouted. "That's no fun." She sighed. "Okay, fine, whatever. Leave the room then so I can get dressed!"

Rose was very happy to oblige. Misa Amane had quite a loud high-pitched voice, and it really didn't appeal so early in the morning. She let in a waiter bearing some breakfast. L had clearly ordered him to be there instantaneously, for he was out of breath and sweat beaded his forehead: she apologised to the poor man. Fairly soon Matt and Misa emerged, smoking cigarettes in unison. The model, if that's what she really was, wore a knee-length white fur coat with a large sweeping hood that graced her shoulders like a royal mantel. A small black dress, high black boots, and a red stone necklace peeped from underneath.

"Goodbye everyone!" Misa sang. "It was SO good to meet you all, I just KNOW we'd be the BEST of friends if we spend just a TINY bit of time together! Hey, maybe we'll meet again someday?" She gave Matt a movie-star kiss on the lips. "Bye, you tasty Englishman, let's meet up somehow, yes? I've simply had SO much fun."

"Yes I hope so," Matt replied in awful Japanese, and grinned a lopsided grin at the exuberant blonde woman. "Bye bye Misa-kun."

"Yes, lovely to meet you, goodbye." L's voice dripped with excessive politeness.

"Goodbye," Rose added.

Misa cat-walked out, sending Matt a flirtatious wink over her shoulder as she slipped through the door.

"My dear Matt, how did you put up with that woman for an entire night?" L enquired, out of genuine curiosity.

Matt shrugged, looked as though he'd forgotten something important, and then lit up with contentment when he remembered what it was – he hadn't put his goggles on yet. "Luckily I speak fuck all Japanese, so whenever she was babbling I could just nod and smile and phase out." Matt found the goggles in his pocket and returned them to his face. "I like her though, she's like a bloody firework. And to heck with her character flaws – she's fuckin' smokin', ent she?"

"Yeah she's pretty attractive I suppose." Rose checked the time. "Bollocks we're late! Come on."

Matt, who hadn't slept all night, fell asleep the moment they got on the plane. They were business class of course, so he looked like he was in for a decent sleep. Rose figured this was lucky for him – _how would he have dealt with not being able to smoke for an entire journey?_ As if L was reading her thoughts, he answered them.

"On the way to Japan Matt had a vaporiser in his mouth for nearly the whole eleven hours – I was somewhat afraid he'd overdose on nicotine."

"Is that even possible without drinking the liquid?"

"This is not a fact I'm aware of." L glanced across the wide armrest to his cross-legged, chestnut-haired companion. Rose had turned from him and Matt, and was staring out of the window. _She has the power to hurt me greatly,_ he realised. Or rather, remembered. _That's very dangerous. So far, whenever the choice was relevant, she chose me every time – between The Group and me, between Light and me, between America and me – but what if some time she didn't?_ The thought was emotionally far away, like he was viewing the thought perched on a high shelf that he couldn't touch. L contemplated it pensively. _This is an entirely new game and I must learn the rules. What does she want from me? What do I want from her?_

He turned to stare out of the opposite window. There was a bright moon, and the illuminated clouds were a vast dreamlike ocean beneath the plane, undulating and towering in a way that made them appear far more solid than they really were. L imagined tumbling out of the plane, and being caught in their velvety embrace, safe in the vast, cold womb of the sky.

"Chess?" Rose had turned to him once more.

"Sure."

Rose hadn't played for a while, but after a couple of games she was back on form. Competition overrode all other thoughts for a while, and their focus beamed straight and true. For the duration of the flight she only lost by three games: 10:7.

Matt grumbled awake as the plane touched down at Heathrow. They found their way back to the Chevrolet, where the young man downed a bottle of some sparkling caffeinated beverage, put a fag in his mouth, and drove them to Winchester. After a couple of pleasantly quiet hours where the only sound was the bassy background noise of Matt's music and the engine purr, the car drew up to the wrought iron gate of Wammy's House. Rose, stretched out along the whole backseat, watched Matt stick his arm out of the window and open the gate with his pass. It opened ponderously, and they pulled into the gravel drive. _Last time I arrived here I was blindfolded._ A floodlight came on, but as it was the middle of the night Rose still couldn't make out the house or the gardens that she'd been prevented from seeing before. That would have to wait for morning.

The car was unloaded. Matt took some equipment, the rest Rose helped L to take up to his wing. She flinched slightly at the sight of the oak-panelled sitting room with its fireplace, wing-backed armchairs, desk, sofa, marble coffee table, and rich green velvet curtains.

"I'm sorry your first visit here taints your experience of this place."

It seemed L was being unusually telepathic that day, even for him. Rose pulled a half-smile, half-grimace. "Well, I'm not cuffed to a chair now, and we're not shouting at each other. So... life's going pretty well, I think."

"Splendidly." L, hunched shoulders, stood in the middle of room, and for a moment his body sunk. "No Wammy now, though." L shook his head slightly, as if he was trying to physically shake the thought out. "I'll give you the tour tomorrow. Also..." he scratched his left leg with his right foot. "There'll be no beds prepared for you, so you might want to sleep here tonight, unless you particularly want your own bed."

 _What's he saying?_ _That HAD to be deliberately ambiguous. Is he saying that yesterday was a one-off and rare kind of event? Or is he saying that he DOES want me here? Fuck it, I'll just ask him._ "Well, do you want me here or not?"

"I want you to do what you want to do," he replied, monotone. They stood staring at each other for a moment.

 _Why are you so difficult? Not knowing what you want makes me not know what I want – because if you want me here then I definitely want to be here, and if you don't then I want to leave the room as fast as possible and not overstay my welcome._ "Let's have some tea and look at possible cases to work on," Rose sidestepped.

With tea made, they settled at the desk, Rose pulling up an armchair next to his computer chair. It turned out L had devised a pretty useful data-sifting and cataloguing program that gathered profiles on all potential cases from police and news reports, and organised them into 'most interesting', 'fairly interesting', and 'uninteresting'. Rose examined the programming avidly.

"Pretty nice stuff," she praised. "Your algorithms are beautifully simple, that's some elegant code. Rubbish graphics though. Look how hard it is to read the descriptions and access contact information, you're not making it easy on yourself. I'll sort it out for you."

"That would be greatly appreciated. Aesthetics aren't my strongpoint."

"Computer graphics maybe. But you have a keen eye for the aesthetics of a case itself though, don't you?"

"Whatever do you mean?" L responded, knowing full well what she meant.

Rose smirked. "'Interesting' is an aesthetic term, just like 'beautiful' or 'ugly'. You decide on your cases due to how aesthetic they are to you. Don't try to deny it."

"I don't deny it." His jaw jutted defiantly, his eyes met her challenging stare with equal challenge. "And why shouldn't I? It's my job, I can run it how I want."

"Don't you think that you should choose your cases on what most needs to be solved? What use of your expertise would decrease the most suffering? Or is morality and justice not the point of your job?" Rose watched his face mask over as he concealed his reaction to her words. _Hah. I adore you L, but sometimes you need a taste of your own medicine. You test and grill and question people all the time – how do you like it yourself?_

L didn't reply for at least twenty seconds. He drank his tea slowly and deliberately. "Firstly, I would argue that despite the fact I may choose my cases for what you consider the 'wrong' reasons, the outcome is often the same. Arguably there is considerable overlap between the cases that most need to be solved, and the cases I find most interesting – generally because they are bigger, more complex, and more dangerous. So though I may choose them because of their aesthetic quality rather than moral prescience, I still end up solving the majority of the cases I would choose if deciding my cases on moral importance alone."

Rose nodded. She could think of plenty of problems with his position, but it was a reasonably acceptable response. "And here's another question that I'd been wondering about. One of your criteria is 'bigness'. You think that big cases, where more people are involved/killed etc, should be solved more than little ones where say, just one or two people die, or get raped, or wrongly framed, or whatever. And by that choice, you condemn those in 'little' cases to having no help, as if the lives of the others, just by being involved in a 'big' case, are worth more than theirs. I used to read some philosophy books when I lived with Isaac. You reminded me of something called 'The Trolley Problem'. Have you heard of it?"

"No – please continue."

"So there's this big trolley, a sort of train carriage, careering down a railway track. Ahead of it are five people tied to the tracks, with no chance of escape. The only way they can be saved is by diverting the trolley onto the only possible diversion – but the problem is that on that diverted track in another person, just one, tied to the track with no chance of escape either. You're standing next to the lever that controls the trolley's direction, watching it all. So the dilemma is this: do you let the trolley continue on its previous course, killing five people, or divert it, killing that one person?"

L nodded, his eyes far away. "I see."

"I'm sure you can see the resemblance. You have two cases in front of you – one where ten people are being tortured, one where two people are being tortured. You choose the case with ten – leaving the two to their suffering and death. What makes their lives less important? How can you quantify the value of human lives? That logic could excuse genocide as acceptably moral, as long as the majority of the world was happy about it."

L stirred three more sugar cubes into his tea, gaze lost in the whirling liquid. His pause was much longer this time, and his voice quieter when he eventually replied.

"Don't imagine that I've never thought about these things before – I have. Personally, I've never managed to decide whether all human lives are of equal value. At first face, it seems that some are infinitely more worthy than others. I don't know. But putting that aside, you're right about one thing. I am one hundred percent Utilitarian in my decisions of how to save lives – I'd rather kill one person to save five, than not kill anyone. Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"In the trolley example, the trolley is heading for the five. It is only by the protagonist's deliberate action that the trolley diverts and kills the one person. This might seem to say that he is only truly at fault if he diverts it – he only actually kills someone if he makes that choice. However just by witnessing the trolley go towards the five, and being able to do something about it, he is obligated morally to save them. If he fails to move the lever, he is just as morally at fault, he is just as responsible for their deaths as for the death of the one. Whatever choice he makes, he has killed people.

And it's the same for me. Whatever choice I make to help someone means that someone somewhere else, is not helped. Whichever lever I pull, I am responsible for death and suffering elsewhere. Whatever good choice I make, I am also at fault. So forgive me for choosing cases involving larger numbers of people over smaller numbers – since I will always be responsible for the suffering I've failed to prevent, I can only work in ratios, and try to quantify the suffering. It helps me to live with myself, I suppose. Besides, since whatever choice I make, someone is condemned, why not make the choice on aesthetics? It's partly why I don't sleep. It's definitely why I work so much. Because every time I have a day off, or even a few hours, voices in my mind whisper of all the people my free time has murdered, raped, tortured, burgled, scammed, by not catching the perpetrators I could have caught in that time." He shut his eyes for a second. "I see them all, those faceless people. So I have to get back to work. Believe me, though I did not know its name, I've been intimately acquainted with the trolley dilemma for most of my life."

They sat in silence for a minute. Rose half-regretted her probing, and was half-pleased to have coaxed so much insight out of him. L's figure had hunched further into a ball, his pale face grown more skeletal, his eyes pools of black cloying oil. She pulled his computer chair nearer with her feet, and wrapped her arms around the bony ball of detective.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to bring that up, I was just curious. Anyway, in my opinion, you shouldn't blame yourself."

"It's okay," he replied softly. "I know that. But still, the weight... I can feel it..." He straightened up a little, half out of her embrace, and met her gaze with a wry twist of his lips. Their faces were very close, and he leant his face closer until his forehead rested against hers gently. They stayed that way for some time, listening to each other's breathing, feeling it on their lips, before L pulled away.

"Peach?" He asked, pulling a punnet of juicy looking peaches out from behind his monitor.

"Sure."

 _Thanks for reading, please do let me know what you think = ] Expect more in a few days when I'm back from Yorkshire x_


	40. Chapter 40: Gardens, Blackouts, Business

_Cheers to my regular reviewers, it's nice to know that you paid attention to me posting again! Without further ado, here's a nice long chapter..._

In the end Rose and L never slept at all. The pair stayed up all night, discussing the relative merits of various cases, drinking many cups of tea. Neither were entirely sure whether they'd stayed up all night to avoid making the decision of whether to share a bed, or whether their unusually long sleep in the hotel the night before had meant that they didn't need to sleep that night. Either way the decision was neatly avoided, and both were relieved to have longer to ponder the nature of their desires.

Overnight it got warmer and warmer as a summer storm brewed. It was still only May, but the air was thick and humid like late summer, not late spring. At around three in the morning the rain came down, drumming at the roof, sliding down the window panes. The wind rushed and sighed and moaned. By six the rain had stopped, but the wind continued to howl. Rose drew back the green velvet curtains and took in the dripping gardens sloping away from the house.

"I think I'm going to check out the grounds. Do you want to come?"

"I'm going to go and find Roger. He's an early riser. I would like to ask him how the students are doing. When you've explored the grounds I'll give you a tour of the house, if you like."

"Cool."

Rose remembered the twisting oak-panelled stairs and corridors that had led to L's suite, so she found her own way to the front door. She left the gravel drive, and wound round to the back of the house between well-tended flowerbeds filled with lupins, roses, ornamental grasses, begonias, veronicas, phloxes, sages, and more. The flower beds eventually gave way to a wide lawn that stretched away from the back of the house, before ending at a small stone fence that marked a drop of a few feet, and stone steps leading down. Beyond the steps were many species of ornamental tree, large and stately, fine exhibits of their kind, spaced out well to give them plentiful access to sunlight and nutrients. Beneath them was grass and gravel paths, and a scattering of large flowering bushes. Rose wandered amongst them for over half an hour, for the grounds were extensive. _I wonder which trees L used to climb._

Eventually she took a path that meandered back towards the house, coming in on the opposite side this time. Here she found an enclosed Victorian kitchen garden, stables, and various barnlike outhouses. The ones closest to the drive had been turned into garages, and as Rose approached them, she heard Matt's voice.

"Come on man, you know it's not like that. I – well – yes I know, but that's not the fuckin' point, is it? You know I love ya bro, but that's what I'm doing now. I've got responsibilities."

Rose rounded the corner and Matt came into view, leaning in one of the garage doorways out of the wind, dragging furiously on a cigarette and holding his phone to his ear. He frowned.

"I ent fuckin' betraying you! Don't be such a little bitch about this! Look, I'm sorry, okay? I wanna see you, but I don't wanna leave what I'm doing now, it's fun. And not gonna lie, your plans sound pretty loopy."

Rose could just about hear the obscenities screamed back at Matt they were so loud.

"Fuck you!" Matt cried in reply. "Grow up!" With that, Matt hung up, and shook his head wearily at Rose, plucking a second cigarette from his shirt pocket and putting it next to the one already in his mouth. "Sorry bout that."

"Who was it?" Rose came nearer. An oak tree leaned itself over the front of the garage and its lowest branches tapped the roof involuntarily, the wind its puppeteer. She.

"Mello. He's my best mate. Got himself into a bit of a tiz."

"Was Mello a student here?"

"Yeah. Fuckin' clever one at that – him and Near were neck and neck as L's successors." Matt lit his cigarette, and lifted the goggles onto the top of his head so that they pushed his hair back. "But Mello got pissed off with Near, with L, with the whole shitting system, and ran off a few months ago. Didn't hear off him once. So when we were on our way back I messaged him to see if he might come back and visit, and he called as a result."

"So he's pissed you're working for L?"

Matt groaned and knocked his head back against the doorframe of the garage door. "Pretty much. Thinks it's a betrayal. Wants me to come and work with him on some bizarre scheme he's got going, didn't really understand it."

"Sounds like an angry man."

Matt chuckled. "That he is. He'll probs come round eventually."

At that moment the tempestuous wind dragged a small dead branch off its hold on the upper reaches of the oak tree, and the branch came tumbling down, landing squarely on Rose's head. "Owww!" She felt to her knees with its force.

"Shit, are you okay?" Matt bent down next to her, concernedly.

Rose rubbed her sore head. "Yeah," she said finally. "It's gonna bruise, but it's nothing major. Luckily the branch wasn't any bigger!"

"Ennit. Shall we go back in?" Matt stood, offering her his hand to help her up. Rose teetered to her feet without his help, and they returned indoors.

"Aaah! Perfect timing." L was padding across the hallway as they entered. "I'll give you the tour."

"Great. Could we go to the kitchen first? I'm starv-"

Rose's mind went black, and she tumbled to the floor like a bowling pin, out for the count. When she came to, she was lying on the floor, and L was propping up her shoulders and head, his face impassive but his eyes full of concern.

"What's wrong? Why did that happen?"

"I don't know," Rose answered, frowning. She stood up. "I feel totally fine."

L watched her dubiously. "Well, if you're sure..."

"I'm sure. Let's go to the kitchen."

The kitchen was somewhere between a cosy farmhouse kitchen and industrial school kitchen. The old flagstones, fireplace, and warped wooden table contrasted sharply with the shining new stainless steel work surfaces, giant steel cooking vats, and modern appliances. Rose found ingredients to make a sandwich, and fifteen minutes later had devoured it.

"Alright. Where first?"

"I'll take you round all of the common rooms, like the computer centre and library and living rooms. Then the private study rooms, and then a quick glance around the residential wings."

"Sounds good."

As Rose stood up, her mind went black once more, and she crashed down onto the terracotta flagstones. Coming to once more, L's face was definitely concerned.

"Why is this happening?"

"I don't know." Rose bit her lip.

"You're going to see a doctor," L said firmly.

"Now I really don't think that's necess-"

"You're going to see a doctor. I order you to see a doctor." His serious voice embodied so much authority that Rose laughed.

"Fine. I'll see a doctor."

Rose blacked out again in Matt's car on the way to the doctors, for slightly longer this time, and again in the waiting room. Each time she came round, she felt more worried. _What's wrong with me?_ And with a horrible shiver: _what if I don't wake up from the next one?_

L and the rest of Wammy's House had, of course, an expensive private doctor, so Rose was taken in to be seen almost immediately. A blood test, x-ray, fMRI, EEG, and CAT scans were taken. She even blacked out while having a scan. She chose to wait in the hospital while they processed the results – Rose didn't want to go back and freak anybody out any more than she already had. Two hours and two more black-outs later, the kindly doctor in his mid-fifties returned.

"Miss Williams, it's both bad and good news."

"Oh?"

"The good news is that it's not a tumour. The bad news is that there's a small chip of your own skull stuck about 1.2 centimetres inside the top-left hemisphere of your brain, in your motor cortex. I assume the scar on your skull is the injury that dislodged the chip of bone. It happened while holidaying, is that what you said?"

"Yes that's right."

"Well, your foreign doctor clearly did an abysmal job, leaving that bone in there. The odd part is that it had so little effect on you until now. How did you gain the recent bruise?"

"A branch blew off an oak tree in the wind, and it landed on me."

"Well, that impact must have dislodged the bone from its benign resting place and knocked it into a more problematic position." The doctor contemplated her for a moment, with a kind, patient sort of distrust on his face. "I want you to know Miss Williams, that our discussions are strictly confidential. If someone's been hurting you, then-"

"Oh don't worry," Rose cut in quickly, "it's honestly nothing like that."

"Okay. But still, we have some excellent people you can talk to if you need."

"Seriously," Rose said, trying to stop herself rolling her eyes, "I wasn't lying when I said it was a tree."

"Alright." The doctor pushed his glasses back up his nose in a way that reminded Rose of Isaac. "Well Miss Williams, I must confess I'm not entirely sure how to approach this problem. There's a serious risk of making it worse if we try to remove it, but I'm afraid that leaving it there will begin to cause further motility problems. Either way, we're looking at a process of tests and surgery that could last days or even weeks, including recovery."

Rose's heart sank. _How am I supposed to flit around the globe solving cases?_ "Can't it be done quicker?"

"We'll obviously try to be as efficient as we can, but I don't want to rush it and risk causing you worse brain damage."

 _Shit. Well I'm stuck here then._ "Okay," Rose said glumly. "Can I return home for now?"

"Yes, of course. I'll call you tomorrow to discuss a plan, once I've discussed it with my colleagues. Don't do anything too strenuous, and come back immediately if the blackouts get any more frequent, or you notice any other unusual physical or mental symptoms."

Rose called Matt, and he returned from his visit to Winchester's hardware shop to pick up a few screws and bits of metal for his AI project. In the car on the way home, his phone buzzed a few times and rattled around. He picked it up and read the messages, careering dangerously fast round a corner without looking. Rose sucked in a sharp breath and gripped the seat as a dose of adrenaline coursed into her. Matt grinned.

"Misa Amane's messaged me. Fucking score." He punched the air, phone in hand.

"Surely you're not going to see her again?"

"No probably not, but give me some credit Ros-, sorry, Fern," Matt laughed. "An absolute little sex bomb of a model has messaged me after a one night stand – come on, be pleased for me!"

"I might if her voice hadn't been so annoying."

"Hey!"

Rose blacked out.

The rest of the journey passed without any more collapses, and she found L to continue her tour.

"If I collapse, just wait for me to get up, and carry on," she ordered firmly. "I wanna get to know the place."

"If you insist." If he was worried, he masked it well.

The ground floor was entirely public rooms – an airy, cathedral-like library, a room full of computers, cosy living rooms, an art room, a practical room for constructing machines and other complicated objects, and various rooms that were more like classrooms. Roger's office – that he had previously shared with Watari – was a large room off the main entrance hall. His eyes blinked curiously at Rose from behind his glasses as they entered.

"So this is your companion," he said, and his voice was old and gruff, tinged with a Northern accent. _Manchester maybe. Definitely not Liverpool._ "A pleasure to meet you, Fern Williams. I've heard all about you." L had actually been very reticent in his information about the woman, but Roger wanted to sound well informed.

"A pleasure to meet you too."

"I hope you've chosen wisely, L."

"I only ever choose wisely, Roger," L drawled.

"Hmmph."

After a few more pleasantries they left. On the second floor were the student's residences. From the grand staircase, one long dark corridor wound round the entire floor. At first there were small rooms that L explained each housed two kids, ordered into a hierarchy of ranking. As the corridor proceeded, he pointed out where the rooms became occupied by only a single, generally older, child. At the furthest end he indicated the name tags on the doors that were most spread apart.

"Matt, Mello, and Near, the top three students. They each have a large bedroom with an en suite. Though now that Mello seems to have absconded and Matt is the new Watari, I suppose Near is in the undisputed first place. I wonder if he's in."

L knocked on the very last door of the corridor.

"Yes?" Came an almost imperceptible response.

"It's L. With a friend. Could we come in?"

The door opened a crack, and a large, orb-like, blue-grey eye peeped out. "So it really is you," spoke Near. "I thought someone might be playing tricks." His voice was soft and dreamy, like an expensive white chocolate mousse – it caressed your ears. _In fact_ , Rose thought as he pulled the door open, _that's sort of what his hair looks like too_.

"You can come in," Near offered, "but I warn you there's not much room. Don't knock it."

Rose followed L in and peered round his shoulder to see what 'it' was. She wasn't disappointed. The entire floor of Near's room was occupied by an intricate cityscape, about five foot high, and built completely out of Lego bricks. Narrow streets and broad promenades interlaced around cute high street shops, Victorian-esque houses, and imposing towers of business or religion.

"Wow," Rose admired.

"Thank you," Near replied quietly, "I've been a little bored today, you see."

"You did all this today?"

"Yes."

"Wow!"

"Of course he did, he's my successor," L said, as if Rose's admiration was unwarranted, and should have been saved for more impressive feats that better exhibited Near's genius.

"I suppose."

"Well we have to go," L told Near abruptly, "urgent business to attend to."

 _Do we?_ Rose thought, but waved goodbye to the cherub-like youth without questioning it, and followed L out of the room. "What business do we have to attend to?"

"I'll show you upstairs."

Following the corridor full-circle brought them back to the grand staircase that reached down to the hallway. Next to it was a slightly smaller staircase that led upstairs, and they took it.

"You're familiar with this staircase of course. On the third floor there are only three sections – my wing, Roger's wing, and what used to be Wammy's wing."

They took the corridor that led to L's wing.

"So, what's business?" Rose enquired, drawing the curtains as light began to fall from the sky.

"Hmmm, can Rose guess?" Came L's monotone reply.

"You can't answer a question with a question."

"I can and I will. Guess."

"Is it about that case in Canada?"

"No. Try again."

"The Irish one?"

"Wrong. I'll give you a clue – come here."

Rose turned from the final curtain, and walked over to where L stood by the mantelpiece. He closed the remaining distance between them with a couple of steps, and it was only then that Rose saw the mischievous light dancing in his eyes. It was also at that moment that Rose realised that if he stood with less of a hunch, L would be really quite tall. He reached his cool, spindly fingered hands into her hair, winding it around his fingers, and brought her face very close to his.

"Clue number one," he murmured softly, his eyes teasing her, "I am ninety two percent sure that we will enjoy this business." L pulled her face closer still, until their noses touched, and their lips were an agonising couple of millimetres away. "Has Rose guessed yet?"

"I'm afraid not," Rose murmured back, "you will have to give me another clue."

L kissed her then, and it was sweet and soft and long. His lips tasted of sugar.

Rose blacked out.

She came to on the floor before the fireplace, with L crouched over her. "I'm going to pretend that was just a girlish swoon at my incredibly alluring seduction," he drawled, his face impassive, downturned lips, but his eyes narrowed and twinkling with humour.

"What else could it have possibly been," Rose replied sarcastically, but pulled him down towards her nonetheless. She pulled back for a second, worried. "What if I faint again?"

"Well we've just got to hope you don't."

Somehow they felt in less of a rush this time, and the whole thing unfolded deliciously slowly. It was a full half an hour of kissing and touching and teasing before any clothes came off, and by that point every fibre in Rose's body was burning, sparkling, aching for him. _There's perks to both being so good at somatic analysis,_ Rose thought with amusement, _we can both read each other's reactions perfectly, and work out exactly what to do to please them._ She smiled into the kiss.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Liar, wh-"

Rose smiled more, pushed him onto his back and used her mouth to shut him up: L gave up trying to verbalise his sentence immediately, closing his eyes, his head falling back against the plush carpet with a stifled moan. After a minute or so she pulled herself back up to kiss his face, and his eyes opened and accused her.

"That's not fair, you tricked me out of my questioning."

"All's fair in sex and war." Rose flicked over his lip with her tongue.

L growled, and pulled her tightly against him. "Show me how it's done then," he growled softly in her ear. Rose was more than happy to oblige, and straddled his pale hips. For a minute or so, intense self-consciousness of the intimacy, and then, ecstatic oblivion. Urgency. Awareness consumed by desire. The world faded away.

Eventually Rose felt his legs tense beneath her, his hands grasp her waist more tightly, felt a rush of warmth inside her, and knew it was ending. She leant over to kiss him as he stuttered through his most strangled breaths, and he attempted to kiss back through the gasping most valiantly. Rose rolled onto her back to regain her breath.

"No blackouts then," he observed, once he'd regained the power of speech.

"Nope. Thank fuck. That would have been more than awkward." Rose giggled. She was not a regular giggler, but somehow after sex, it seemed a more natural sound to form in her throat.

"And you're to have surgery."

"That's correct." Rose became more serious. "If you want to leave for a case, I don't mind. I can join you later."

"Don't be ridiculous," L admonished. "You said it would only be a matter of about a week, am I right?"

"Yes."

"So that's no problem. We can work from here until then."

"Thank you," Rose said gratefully, and looked him up and down out of the corner of her eye. L had a narrow waist. His pale sides curved in beneath his rib cage and above his hips in an almost feminine sweep. It suited him. He was staring up at the ceiling, contemplating something or other, ignorant of her gaze. To Rose his willowy form, his entire being, embodied such unconscious grace, such unconscious gawky elegance. She wondered if she'd ever get bored of looking at him.

L sat up suddenly, jerking her out of her pleasant, dreamy voyeurism.

"Let's look at that Canadian case!"

Rose yawned. "Alright. I'll be up in a minute. Make some coffee, will you?" Somehow he was already nearly dressed again. _How does he do that so quickly?_

She sat up to recover her clothes, and blacked out.

 _I have no idea whether a piece of bone in your brain could do anything like this in real life, but that's not the point – it's fiction after all! Thanks for reading, do comment if you have a moment = ] x_


	41. Chapter 41: Wedy

The night and following day passed quickly. In an odd sort of unspoken compromise, Rose and L had fallen asleep on the sofa in the living room – somehow that felt less formidable than deliberately sharing the bed, and also infinitely better than sleeping in separate rooms. When the doctor called he invited Rose in for surgery the very next day. The blackouts had remained regular – just less than one an hour.

Evening came again, and after L had collected the large raspberry pavlova pudding he'd ordered the cook to make for him, he picked up the untraceable phone. It was on loudspeaker.

"Wedy?"

"Well well, if it isn't my soldier back from the war. Ryuzaki, it's rude to keep a woman waiting this long, you know?"

"My apologies my dear, duty called."

Rose bristled silently at the woman's familiar, flirtatious tone, and L's total ease with it. _I've heard him mention her before, he said she's how he knew who I really was. Shit, were they closer than I thought?_

"So, got anything for me?"

"Well yes, in a way. I'd like to have your opinion on a bank robbery, and how they breached the security systems, but I'd also like you to meet someone. A certain someone you helped me identify. She works with me now."

The phone speaker was silent for a moment. "You speak of a certain flower?"

"That's right."

"She... works with you?"

"Correct. Would you like to come over? Ryuzaki is at base."

"Yes. Yes I would. See you soon, honey."

Rose declined to comment on the phone call, and about an hour later there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," L called from an armchair.

The woman who entered, Wedy, was tall, slim and curvaceous, a shape accentuated by her all-black, figure-hugging clothing. Her hair was rich blonde, not silver-blonde like Near's, and hung thickly just past her shoulders. She had full, red lips, an attractive pointed nose, and when she took off her sunglasses, bright blues eyes.

"L! It's been too long." Wedy beamed at him.

"Far too long," he agreed, cutting himself another portion of raspberry pavlova. "This is Rose. Now known as Fern Williams. I thought you'd be interested to meet her."

Wedy turned to Rose. "I thought my identification of you would end up with you in prison, not you here." She tutted in disbelief. "Well, I'm pleased that you've turned things round like I did."

"Pleased to meet you."

"Do you remember me?"

Rose shook her head, mildly embarrassed.

"Well, I'm sure you met lots of people when you worked for The Group. You must've been about fifteen or sixteen when I met you – I can't blame you for not remembering."

"Thank you."

"So L, what's been keeping you away?"

"You heard of the Kira case, obviously. That, then rescuing _her_ again," L mocked, good-naturedly.

"Oi!"

"You're clearly very worth rescuing," Wedy said, and Rose was surprised at the look in her eyes. Wedy had sounded light-hearted, but her face spoke of other things: sadness, anger, and loss. _What on earth does that mean?_

"She certainly is – she's taught me many things." L's voice purred slightly, and Rose saw Wedy's jaw and forehead tighten. "So," L said, oblivious, for Wedy's face had been turned away from him, "would you take a look at this bank robbery? Rose and myself have come up with ideas, but you're the expert in this sort of security system."

"Sure thing honey."

The next hour passed in discussion of the Canadian bank robbery. Rose watched Wedy's body language with interest. Wedy watched L. L watched the computer, glancing at Rose every now and then. _Oh dear,_ Rose thought, _I know what this means._

 _Why is Rose's attention so unfocused on the case?_ L wondered.

 _Just as I thought,_ Wedy mourned. _The absolute worst has happened._

Wedy make some concluding-sounding noises, and nodded slowly. "I'd have to have a look at the actual system and the damage to say for certain. You're planning to go to Canada I assume?"

"Yes, in about a week."

"Well, perhaps I'll come."

"Perhaps you should."

 _I could probably do it,_ Rose thought, mildly resentfully. _I've never done bank security before, but it can't be that different, can it?_

Wedy stood up to leave. "So, Fern, would you like to see my motorbike?"

Rose could tell from Wedy's meaningful stare that, whether or not she was cared about motorbikes, she must go outside with the older woman. "Sure." As she followed Wedy down the stairs, for a moment she had an irrational fear that she was about to be murdered. _Shut up brain. L trusts her, that means you can trust her._

When they were outside in the dark porch Wedy paused, and fingered her sunglasses in gloved hands, her gave averted down at them. Rose waited patiently, alert.

"How did you do it?" Wedy asked quietly.

"Do what?"

"You know what I mean."

Rose shrugged to express cluelessness. She wasn't clueless, but it would be rude to show how obvious it was.

"How did you get him to notice you?"

Rose didn't respond. _Just as I thought_.

"I saw the way he looks at you. You actually managed to pique his interest, didn't you." Wedy shook her head slightly. She made a strangled noise, half way between a sigh and a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. "I'm sorry, I must sound so stupid to you right now."

"No no, it's fine, don't worry!" Rose tried to calculate whether if she tried to comfort Wedy it would help, or whether she would see it as patronising. _Better not, to be on the safe side._ Wedy started walking out from the porch slowly, and as Rose wondered whether to follow, began to speak again.

"Has he ever told you my story? Of how I came to work for him?"

"I'm afraid not," Rose confessed.

"No," Wedy said sadly, "I didn't think he would – I've not been an important enough part of his life for him to talk about."

"He's told me very little about his past," Rose offered in conciliation, "I wouldn't take it personally."

"Be that as it may..." Wedy, with Rose a little behind her, walked towards the garages. "Did you never wonder how it was that Aiber and I, two hardened criminals, gained the trust of the top detective in the world?"

"No – but I suppose I should've," Rose admitted. "I know from my own experience that it was by no means easy to gain his trust."

"No." Wedy sighed. "Well there's no need to go into it, I don't want to bore you with a long story. I supose the second thing I have to ask is, did it never occur you to question why, Aiber or I, as two hardened criminals, would choose to betray our lives for a detective?"

"No..."

They had approached the second garage, where a gleaming black motorbike was parked just inside the doorway. "For Aiber it was simple enough – L was highly involved in saving the life of his son. For me... I fell in love. Head over heels, the very first time I saw him. But I suppose you guessed that."

Rose dipped her head in acknowledgment. Wedy's blue eyes, like pools of sky, looked at her with a complex mix of emotions. "We're not so different you and I. We both left our lives for him, we both dropped everything. The only difference is where I failed, you succeeded. Maybe it's because you're younger and more attractive than me. Maybe you're cleverer than me, or funnier, or he just doesn't like blondes. Maybe you're not better than me, and you came along at the right time, I don't know. It's just not fair. He never looked at me in that way once, I don't think it even ever crossed his mind, even if I flirt with him and make my interest obvious. It kills me. There must be something wrong with me." Wedy gave another strangled laugh. "But fucking listen to me. How pathetic. You have no reason to listen to these ramblings of a jealous older woman. I'm sorry. Sorry for asking you out here. I just had to confirm it."

Wedy straddled the motorbike, and reached for her helmet.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Rose said quietly. There was nothing more she could say. She could think of literally no words of comfort to offer.

"It's not your fault, honey. It's not your fault L is blind and you won." The helmet was on. Now Wedy's fragile, human core was encased in an impervious robotic exoskeleton. "Just one last thing... is he happy?"

"I... I think so," Rose frowned. "I'm not entirely sure how to tell."

Wedy in her shining black exterior became one with the bike, some kind of deadly insect. The insect laughed. "No one can. It's a comfort that not even you can get inside his head. Well, goodbye. See you on the other side."

 _The other side of what?_ Rose wondered, as the gleaming black creature roared out of the drive. She stood there on the gravel in the semi-dark, just out of reach of the floodlight, for a couple of minutes. The encounter had left Rose feeling sort of dislocated. At a loss. She walked back in.

"What did Wedy want to talk about?" L asked when she got back to his wing.

"Oh, just girly stuff, you know?" Rose said evasively.

L's eyebrows raised, but he didn't question it. _That sounds odd for Rose... but then again, I've seen her interact with other females very infrequently, I cannot draw any solid inferences about her typical behaviour in such scenarios. Besides, what do I know about being a woman? Very little. It is only proper to take her word for it._

 **(gap)**

Rose spent the morning having a few more tests at the hospital. At around lunchtime she sat in the waiting room, and queasily ate an abysmal packaged sandwich whilst reading an equally abysmal 'women's' magazine. Eventually her doctor, Dr Payne, ( _how ironic_ , Rose had thought), called her back in. He was okay-looking, for a man of over fifty. But he looked tired.

"SO Miss Williams, your test results give the go-ahead for the surgery. Now before we proceed, I have to make sure it's exactly what you want. Are you sure that you would like to undergo surgery as soon as possible?"

"Yes, I don't want to wait. And please, call me Fern."

"Okay Fern, knowing the risks, you would still like to proceed?"

"The odds are 75% success 25% failure?"

"Mmhmm."

"Then yes, I want to proceed."

The doctor smiled. "Alright then, I'll escort you to the surgery room."

 _Thank you for reading = ] Almost all of the plots set up and rolling now!_


	42. Chapter 42: Surgery

_You're right nofreakingway, Aiber would be a much better match for Wedy, but unfortunately she doesn't realise that! Have a chapter. Enjoy._

Rose blinked her eyes open. The tranquilisers and painkillers swam pleasantly in her blood. A nurse checked some machines. _I wonder how much time has passed._

"The chip of bone has been successfully removed. How are you feeling Miss Williams?"

"Good." Rose smiled dopily. And then frowned. Something seemed different, but she couldn't quite put a finger on it. "I think." It was like she was heavier before. _No, that's not it._ _It's like I've forgotten something... or I'm missing something..._

The nurse jotted notes on a form, and gave a perfunctory smile. "Alright, if you'd like to sit up, I'll bring you some water to drink."

Rose went to bend her knees to push herself out of her recumbent position, and... nothing. She concentrated her power of will deliberately on her lower body, and tried again. Nothing. _This is normal, I'm only just coming out of the anaesthetic, I've been tranquilised,_ Rose whispered to herself mentally against the rising tide of panic. After several more tries, she gave a groan of groggy horror.

"Nurse I can't move my legs!"

The nurse approached calmly, and prodded her in various places from her stomach and downwards.

"Can you feel this?"

"Yes."

"This?"

"Yes?"

"This?"

"No."

"This?"

"No," Rose moaned miserably. "I can't feel that at all."

"I'll call for the doctor."

Rose pushed herself into sitting with her arms, and woozily touched her head. There was a dull ache inside it, and a neat bandage on her crown. She tried to wiggle her toes. Nothing. _It's a bad dream. It's fine, you'll wake up soon and you'll be on L's sofa about to go to the hospital._

She didn't wake up. And soon the doctor was back, taking measurements of various things, asking Rose to do this or that, answer questions, move in certain ways. His brow was furrowed.

"I'm so sorry Fern. But it seems that the surgery has damaged your motor cortex in an unforeseen way. You seem to be paralysed from the waist down."

Rose clenched her teeth and shook her head violently. "No. No. How did you get that wrong?"

The doctor interlaced and unlaced his fingers over and over again, his shoulders drooping with shame, his mouth grimacing. "The thing is, that every person's brain is different. Whilst the general pattern of areas controlling certain functions remains similar, there can be many personal, unique patterns of neural pathways and clusters that we simply cannot predict or map perfectly. Unfortunately, it seems that you're of the 25% not the 75%." He spread his hands apologetically. "I truly am sorry."

Rose sank her head wearily against the pillow and closed her eyes. "And is it permanent?" she whispered, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"The truth is, I don't know. Some people gain back feeling and control of limbs, some don't. Only time will tell."

"I see."

"Please, accept my deepest apologies and regrets. We will compensate in every way we can. I have failed you."

"Yes." Rose turned her face from the doctor. "Yes you have."

"Fern, I think that-"

"GET OUT!" She shrieked at the wall. A scuffling of feet told her he had quickly obeyed.

Something – maybe it was the anaesthetic, or maybe it was her own defence mechanism – made Rose detached. As if it wasn't just her legs but her whole being she'd been divided from, Rose's awareness could barely feel the reality of her situation, could barely relate to the character in the bed, though she seemed to overlap them concretely. Her mind went blank and grey, a gentle white noise, like the hiss of an un-tuned radio. She had no desire to tune back in.

Sssssssssssssh. Some time passed. Rose dozed in the grey noise. Sssssssssssssssssh. The door opened, and Rose heard two sets of footsteps interrupting her blankness, one booted, the other barefooted and almost imperceptible. She heard the click of a lighter and the subsequent inhalation. She heard the creak of two chairs being occupied.

"Fern."

Rose didn't respond. The blessed white noise was fading at the interruption, and it was making her angry.

"I know you're awake," came a low, monotone voice. "Even if that beeping machine wasn't visualising your heartbeat, indicating a speed far exceeding that of an unconscious person, I can always tell from your facial expression."

Rose kept her eyelids clamped down. As the blankness receded, it revealed a painful knot of emotions, and it was taking her a lot of effort not to start shaking and crying. The other voice spoke.

"They said we could take you home in a couple of days, with a visit from the doctor once a day and a daily physiotherapist." It was Matt of course. "But if that fails, I promise you Fern, I'll build you a pair of the best robotic legs the world has ever seen."

At this Rose could not help letting a scratchy sob erupt from her throat, and she gave up attempting to ignore the world any longer, opening her eyes. L's heart skipped at the despair he saw there, and he clutched his knees tighter. Rose let out a twisted chuckle, as a tear rolled out of her left eye.

"And I thought losing fingers was bad."

"Trust me, the surgeon who did this will never work again. I'll make sure of it." L's voice was low, smooth, tightly controlled, and utterly murderous. "Neither will the doctor involved, or the junior surgeon assisting him. A little bit of exaggerated media coverage should sort that out. That incompetent bungling amateurish useless excuse for a professional does not deserve his title. What did he learn in med school? I should have done it myself, I'd have clearly done a better job than that buffoon."

Rose snorted. "Yeah, call him an idiot, that's really going to help. Though he clearly is," she added, "a fucking moron." She laughed again, bitterly, with no idea where all this false humour was coming from.

L sighed. His skin strained over his high cheekbones, pale and shadowed, his mouth curved down like a bowed branch. "This is my fault. I should never have allowed you to go to Kiyomi's alone. If that hadn't happened, this wouldn't have happened. I should have sent someone else, someone that matters less." He sighed again, brow furrowed, eyes locked on hers with one of the most vicious looks she'd ever seen him give, except she knew that the fury wasn't directed at her. "And yes," L muttered, "in reference to our conversation the other night, I have decided that some people have intrinsically less value than others. Most humans I have met have less value than you do."

"Careful Ryuzaki, you're starting to sound like Light." Rose shut her eyes wearily. "Can you guys leave me alone? I'll speak to you when I come back to Wammy's House. I've got a lot to sort through in my head to be honest. I need to be alone."

L got up. He'd had a vague idea of staying at the hospital as some kind of gesture of support or something like that. _Perhaps not._ He also had a vague sense of foreboding. He had thought through a hundred possibilities of where the future would now go, and though he had highlighted some desirable options, he knew he couldn't predict or dictate what Rose would choose to do. And L had a feeling she might not see things the way he did.

 **(gap)**

L looked out of the tall French windows that led from the largest living room out onto the patio and the square lawn at the back of the house. It was two days since his visit to the hospital. L had heard the car bringing Rose back, but hadn't been able to locate her for a little while. Half an hour later there she was, sitting in a wheelchair, staring out over the parkland beyond the raised lawn. It was a hot day. Even in the shade of the house L's long-sleeved t-shirt was beginning to cling to him uncomfortably. Steeling himself he ate a sugar cube, opened the French windows, and stepped out.

The patio stones were hot under his bare feet. The sun blazed down. Around the flowers in the border beds the air hummed with insects, buzzing and whining like miniscule drones. L hovered a few feet behind her, buying time to think of the right thing to say.

"I've spoken to Roger," Rose said before he had the chance, not looking round, "and it's all sorted. I'm to teach the students. That'll stop me from getting too bored."

"No." L ordered softly. "Come with me." The heat was making him perspire all over, but he felt cold. He could almost shiver with the cold.

Rose manoeuvred her wheelchair round to face him. She had prepared herself for this. There'd be no hysterics, no giving in to a victim-complex and moaning about her plight, no capitulating if he used all his guile to persuade her. Rose had put on her armour and found her resolve, but it was still hard not to waver when looking at him, hard not to give in to her weaker, more self-indulgent feelings. He looked so odd in the burning sunlight, so juxtaposed. L was an island of winter, black and white and sharp, in the ocean of summer. A raven in the jungle, an arctic wolf in the Sahara. An alien.

"I can't come with you. I'd be a hindrance not a help and you know it. I wouldn't be able to leave the hotel to do anything useful, even go to the shop. I'd be useless and vulnerable, and more importantly an inconvenience. I'd just slow you down. Think how much harder it would be to get me on and off planes. And you and Matt would have to get me out of bed, put me in bed, help me wash, even help me go to the toilet if they don't have the right facilities." Rose pulled a face. "If you don't mind, I'd rather not force you two into being my carers rather than my friends. I don't want to be a burden. And I'd rather not embarrass myself like that. Urgh. It's bad enough a strange nurse doing it, let alone either or you. No, I'll stay here, and not weigh you down with unnecessary responsibilities."

"You wouldn't be a burden."

"Yes, I would. Don't lie to yourself, you know I would be. I could give in to my sentiment, and allow you to persuade me to come with you, but what good would that do? Our feelings for each other would soon be strained to the limit by the roles we'd be forced to occupy. We'd resent each other. I'd rely on you and resent you for it, you'd be obligated to me and resent me for that. No. I cannot come."

"I could-"

"Don't you dare say you could stay here more, because you know that couldn't happen." Rose's voice shook slightly, her lip trembled for a moment, before she got it under control once more. "I know from what you said the other day how much it would kill you to work less, and I know as well as you that not all detection can be done from a distance. No. Don't even suggest it."

L fell into a crouch before her, and held Rose's hands in her lap. "Everything you say makes logical sense," he acknowledged despondently. "So rational. Give me a weaker argument so that I can refute it immediately." He head-butted their enclosed fists gently.

Rose clutched his hands tighter, and with a gulp prepared for her final point. "There's just one more thing that I need to say," she said quietly to the silky black top of his head. It was lava hot in the beating sun.

"Mmm?" he questioned into her lap.

"I like you, and care for you. And I think you feel something similar. Lately we've been... you know, and maybe that could've been leading to something. I don't know. All I know is that now that can't happen."

L's head shot up. His eyes smouldered dangerously. "Why not."

"A) because we'll hardly see each other. I don't know about you, but I've never thought 'long distance relationships' could work – how can you 'be with' someone if you're hardly ever 'with' them? B) because..." Rose swallowed, "Because I'm basically paralysed and numb from the waist now. None of that... works anymore. I wouldn't feel a thing, let alone be able to engage in any of it properly. I'm defunct. I'm a broken machine. I'm a fucking _cripple_ ," she spat bitterly.

"But perhaps we could still-"

"L," Rose breathed, and stroked his cheek. "Trust me on this. You know very little about being in relationships, but I know a little, and I know that without sex, they don't hold together. So no." She managed a small smile. "You have to go – in fact I WANT you to go. I want you to be free to find someone else, someone that functions." Rose was telling the truth when she said she wanted him to be free. But she desperately hoped that wouldn't include finding someone else. Her heart felt like someone was splitting it open from the inside. _Maybe soon I'll die of internal bleeding. It would almost be a relief. Oh L, don't give me those eyes. You're going to make me give in to my selfishness._ She shut her eyes to avoid it. Rose was surprised by warm lips on hers.

"You're the most functional person I know, and you don't even need legs for that," L breathed, and gave a soft dry laugh.

Rose opened her eyes. He looked at her very seriously and very sadly. "But I know you're right. I know that I have to go, and leave you. But I'm not going to forget you. I'll come and see you. And when you're better, we can work together again."

Rose scoffed. "'When', you sound so certain!"

"I am. I've decided you're going to get better. By all probability, it's about time something went right for you. I think the universe owes you a favour, so it's definitely going to grant you this one."

Smiling, Rose leant her chin on his head. His shoulders were tense and curved, his cheek on her knee.

"Hmm, you're right about that. It owes me a fucking big favour."

 _Thanks for reading. Sorry for fucking up their shit again haha!_


	43. Chapter 43: The Photograph

_Cheers to the folks that have reviewed, it's great to hear from you! And cheers to the people faving/following or just reading, your silent presence is also appreciated xD. Sorry for being so evil to them... haha, I do love to make them suffer xD it makes the good moments all the sweeter! Enjoy._

" _I'm going to beat you!" Rose crowed. She was climbing a large, smooth-limbed tree. L was a few branches below her._

" _I think there's only a 50% chance of that."_

" _Just you wait!"_

 _Rose had never felt such physical power, never climbed a tree so fast before. She clasped the boughs with certain and deliberate grip, pushed herself up with vigorous lunges of her legs, her balance perfectly poised and dynamic. It was the tallest tree imaginable, but Rose wasn't tiring, and L was keeping pace._

" _The top is in sight! Still so sure it's only a 50% chance?" She mocked good-naturedly, as the crown of leaves at the top of the tree began to show, shafts of dappled light striking down towards them. The branches were getting thinner. Only a few left to go..._

 _She stepped up confidently, and a branch snapped beneath her weight. Rose's grip slipped, and she tumbled down, down, down, screaming loudly..._

"AAARGH!" Rose woke herself up by her own shriek. She was twisted in the sheets. She looked down at the useless, dead-weight appendages attached to her body, and wished she was back in the dream, climbing effortlessly. Every night she dreamed of running, jumping, dancing, fighting, and every morning she woke up embittered at the real world.

"Fuck you," she said to the unhearing lumps of flesh. "Fuck. You."

It was two weeks since L and Matt had left. The blackouts had stopped, but Rose felt like she was fading away. So much of her self-worth and self-identity had been linked to her physicality. For years, she'd prided herself on near physical perfection, for years she'd trained religiously, addicted to the powerful physical high of exercise. Her strong body, complementing her strong mind, was who she was. Now, she felt like an ugly lump of jelly, a blight on the world. She repulsed herself. Whoever she was now was no more than a translucent ghost of Rose, the husk left behind when a larva hatches and flies away.

She lay there for a while, gathering the strength to perform the difficult manoeuvre of pulling herself out of bed and into the wheelchair next to it. L had offered his wing to her whilst he was away, but she'd politely declined.

"There's no need for Wammy's House to invest in a chair lift up TWO flights of stairs – no, I'll take one of the student rooms on the first floor."

At least, that was the nominal reason. _I didn't want to tell you L, that I couldn't sleep in there, couldn't live in there without being reminded of you every second of the day. I already think about you too much, I didn't want to make it any harder. No, it's better to be down here where I can at least pretend for a moment that I'm forgetting about it._

Roger had given her Mello's room, the large en suite sandwiched between Matt and Near's. It was ideal – the bath was even of a height that she could get into herself without help from the nurse that came every late morning. All of Mello's possessions had been boxed up and put in the wardrobe for now, safe until they would manage to contact him and see what he wanted doing with them. Rose didn't have much, just the small suitcase of clothes she'd brought from Japan and her computer. It still felt like a hotel. _What's the time? It can't be later than 5am, the light's only just beginning to show._

Without warning the door burst open, and Rose let out a cry, clutching the sheets to her chest to cover her nakedness. "What are you doing in my room?"

"Wo there, what the fuck are YOU doing in my room?"

They stared at each other for a moment, before a flash of understanding coursed through Rose's mind. "Mello!"

"Well, obviously," he muttered. And then a flash of understanding coursed through HIS mind. "Wait, I know who you are," and he grinned, a little suggestively, a little boyishly, a little evilly. "You're L's girl, aren't you."

"Don't define me by my relationship to a man. But, I suppose I was. Sort of."

"Mmhmm." The young man's smile grew wider, and he drew a bar of chocolate from his pocket, taking a chunky bite.

Rose used the moment of silence to assess the figure before her. He was tall and slender, with lustrous golden-brown hair that fell to his shoulders, except for the bangs that lingered around his eyes. It was quite a girlish haircut. In fact, his heart-shaped face was quite girlish too, as was his narrow shapely figure and the pinkness of his lips. If it hadn't been for the masculine pitch of his voice, and the tightly chorded muscles of his arms, Rose could have needed a double-take to assess Mello's gender. The young man wore tight leather trousers and a black vest top, black fingerless gloves, and oversized black boots. _Sort of going for the 'rocker' look, in a way, though without all the stupid studs and tattoos and piercings and things._ Normally Rose didn't find that look particularly appealing, but on Mello it looked natural. He had blue eyes that veered on the side of green, a tropical sea shot through with laces of seaweed. They stared down at her lazily. Mello had shut the door behind him, and was leaning his shoulder on it as he ate chocolate, sticking his hip out in a decidedly feminine way.

"Matt told me about you," he said, and his eyes caressed hers.

"Matt told me about you too," Rose replied, still eyeing him carefully. There was something about Mello that just oozed sex. It was something about the way he stood, something about the tilt of his head and the sideways thrust of his hip, something in his eyes. It all whispered, 'fuck me', and Rose was highly disconcerted by it. They only other person she'd met like that was Light, and she'd been oddly unaffected by it, despite the fact that every other female (and quite a few males) had swooned at his feet at just a smile or a fleeting word. But Light had oozed sex in a very perfect, good-boy, top-of-the-class, untouchable kind of way. Mello's aura oozed sex more like a rock-star – in a dirty, imperfect, wild, turbulent way. It was much more appealing.

"I'm sorry that I'm living in your room. Roger was pretty sure you wouldn't be coming back."

"It's alright, I won't be here for long, just picking something up. Though, all the effort to sneak in unnoticed has been totally wasted thanks to you being here. Where's my stuff?"

"In the wardrobe."

Mello turned from her to rummage in the built-in wardrobe. Rose used the time to pull some clothes on under the duvet, and perform the ungainly move of getting herself into the wheelchair. She lifted her legs up one at a time with her hands, and turned them round so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. Then she lined up the wheelchair next to the bed, supported by the bedside table so it wouldn't roll away, and grabbed onto the arms to heave herself in. With a grunt of exertion she succeeded.

"Argh, for fucks sake! I can't fucking find it! I hate Roger and all the stupid maids who work here!" Mello had strewn items from the boxes all over the floor, and was skimming through them with his hands. His beautiful face was contorted with rage, and now the flush of emotion made him seem more like a spoilt toddler in a temper tantrum than an androgynous sex symbol. Rose almost chuckled at the change.

"What are you looking for?"

"A photo. I really want it."

"Wait, is it of a rock person?"

"Yes!" Mello jumped up. "What the fuck have you done with it?"

"Calm down, it's here," Rose said evenly, and pushed the wheelchair round to reach in to the top draw of the bedside table. "When I was trying to get into my wheelchair one morning last week I fell over and knocked this table over with me – this photo fell out from behind one of the draws."

"Give it here." Mello snatched the glossy photo, looked at it for a second, before placing it carefully in his back pocket. The moment he got what he wanted the petulant child vanished, and the alluring young man returned. Mello grinned, and flicked his golden hair out of his eyes. "Thanks. Remind me what they call you?"

"Fern."

"Fern. Hey do you know something?"

"What?"

"I've never seen someone look hot in a wheelchair before. But you make it look like a throne."

Rose's eyes narrowed, but she felt warmed by the compliment. "Your flattery is kind, but unnecessary. I don't need your reassurance." _I do, I feel like shit. But no one needs to know that, especially not a stranger._

"Whatever." His smiled widened. "Well, I'll be going now. Good to meet you, you probably won't be seeing me."

"Okay."

"Oh, and Fern?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't mention to anyone that I was here. It's just better that way."

"I won't. Unless I come across some overriding reason why I should."

"Very wise." Mello opened the door. "Goodbye!"

 _How odd_ , Rose thought, as the door closed. _He came back here just for that photo?_ The photo had been of an old glam-rocker, with huge wavy hair, black panda eyes, and a victorious, belligerent, crowing smile, punching the air with testosterone. He wore a black vest top with a red anarchy symbol emblazoned across it. In other words, a totally unremarkable rock-star. _What does it mean to him?_

 **(gap)**

Later that afternoon Rose rolled herself into the computer suite on Wammy's house ground floor. A handful of kids and teenagers above the age of ten were waiting for her, already on computers, fighting, laughing, or reading. Rose had thought that it wouldn't be suitable to teach some of the things she was about to teach to anyone any younger, even if they were a genius. _A child is a child, after all._

"Okay guys, lesson's beginning." They hushed, and turned towards the front. "Where did I get up to yesterday?"

"We'd finished the list of types of programming languages – visual, wirth, and xml-based languages," a spectacled boy of about twelve piped up.

"Excellent."

Rose was starting with her strongest subject – computers. For the last two weeks any kid that was interested had spent their afternoons with Rose, beginning to learn the ins and outs of coding. Some of course had already spent half their lives on computers and could do a lot of it already, but even those ones had holes in their knowledge that Rose could fill. _Luckily_ , Rose thought. _How embarrassing it would've been if I'd had nothing to teach them_. What had amazed her most was the speed in which they learnt – they could master each new coding language in less than half an hour each. It was weird being immersed in a world where everyone was her intellectual equal. _I wonder where I'd have been if I'd grown up in Wammy's House? Would I have been a candidate for succession, or would I have just been an 'average' genius?_

"Alright then, I think we should look at the darknet/dark-web this week. Who here has used the darkweb before?"

A few hands, but less than half, went up.

"Okay. As some of you know-"

Rose was interrupted by the door opening, and Near slouching in. She hadn't seen him since she and L had visited him over three weeks ago. He was still wearing pyjamas, though a dark blue pair today rather than a pale blue pair. She raised her eyebrows.

"Well I never."

"Mmm, I'd have come before, but I had a very fascinating project on the go," Near said, his voice like eiderdown. "Did I hear darkweb? I'd be very interested to hear another's opinions."

"That's right. I may not have much to teach you Near," Rose admitted, "but your input would be appreciated. Please, join us."

"So, as some of you know, a grasp of the darkweb is very important in detection work. It's a realm of crypto-anarchy and anonymity, so has become an ideal platform for the work and communication of many classes of criminality, including: hacking; the marketing of weapons, illegal pornography and drugs; social media for all sorts of groups from the mafia, to the organisation of paedophile rings, to local car thieves to militarised political uprisings; the pirated transfer of all types of software and copyrighted files; 'camgirls', etcetera. Therefore, it is the prerogative of a detective to be able to not only smoothly operate the darkweb, but also, shall we say, 'hack' the hackers."

There was a buzz of excitement through the students. Rose turned to Near, who was twiddling a silvery strand of hair round his finger, one leg tucked up on his chair. "Is this something you're experienced in?"

"I've tried various methods, but I must confess, not all to great success. I'd be delighted to be informed."

Rose smiled, pleased that she had something on L's best successor, and proceeded to reveal the secrets she had learned from Isaac all those years ago. _It's not so bad, teaching_ , she told herself. _It's quite rewarding in a way. Maybe I will be fulfilled in my new life. Let's just turn the page, start the new chapter, stop wishing it was like the past. It hurts, but things will move on. They have to. I can't afford not to._

 _Thank you for reading = ] do let me know your thoughts on it! Now all the threads of the third story arc are laid... I can't wait to begin drawing them all together!_


	44. Chapter 44: Distance

_If you can be bothered Destiny246, I'd be very interested to hear how you think it's changed perspective in the new chapters? No worries if not, I'm just curious haha._

 _I don't normally do this, but a song goes with this chapter: watch?v=OodwL4TL2rQ_

 _It's lyrics describe Rose and L perfectly in their current situation (KT Tunstall – Other Side of the World). Anyway, without further ado, here's some story._

"So, how do you find Wammy's House?"

It was just over a month since the calamitous operation, and L and Matt had returned for the first time. L's question, impassive and polite to the point of parody, hung in the air awkwardly, as awkwardly as L stood there. He began to eat a banana, just for something to do with his hands, eyes, and mouth. Something to prevent himself from staring unblinkingly at her, which would probably freak her out.

"Very well thank you." Rose gave him her perfected social smile. With a quick flick of his eyes, L noted the mask she was wearing, and looked back to the banana.

"And have you found your occupation... diverting?"

"Oh yes, thoroughly diverting. Devising ways for the students to learn things has been a most rewarding pursuit."

"Good."

There was a small silence. "And how has your business been going abroad?"

"Very well. We completed the Canada case in just over a week with Wedy's help, before moving briefly to Hong Kong, and then to Toronto, Canada. We've been there ever since tracking the movements of a serial killer, but I resolved that case two days ago."

"Excellent."

L held the empty banana skin between his forefinger and thumb, examining it painfully carefully. The banana skin drooped depressingly. Their weird farce of small talk, of a normal conversation, was grating on him. It was like Rose had erected an invisible wall, or a force-field around her, that he simply couldn't get through. _No,_ he thought miserably, _I did not finally learn how to become close to someone only for this to happen._

"And how is Matt?"

L reluctantly allowed the conversation to continue. "He's doing well. He seems to be dating that infuriating Misa-Misa girl." _Great, now we're gossiping. I feel like a middle aged lady chatting with her neighbour over the garden fence whilst watering the bloody begonias._

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. He met up with her when we had the short case in Hong Kong. They've also been engaging in some highly personal video calls."

Rose gave a light laugh. "Well, if it makes him happy..."

"Mmm." L moved a step closer to peer into her eyes. "How are you?" He was surprised at the venom that rose in her eyes at his question.

"Don't, please don't ask me that question. I'm sick of people every day asking 'how are you', looking at me like a helpless invalid. I can cope, you know."

"Yes, of course. I see." Rose's face, angry and bitter, was once again replaced by the poised social mask he knew well.

"The plus side is that my arm strength is now considerably better than before!"

"Rose..." he reached towards her face, but she turned her face and the wheelchair away, somehow managing to make it look as if she'd been about do that anyway, and not as if she was avoiding his touch.

"Well then, don't you think it's about time you talked to the students? It'd be good for them, you know."

Rose watched the veil fall over L's hurt expression, his emotionless disguise returning to mirror her own.

"That's an excellent idea."

They moved through the corridors, and Rose stayed slightly ahead so that he couldn't see her biting her lip, couldn't see the welling water in the corner of her eyes. _I'm doing this for you, L. You don't want to be lumped with this useless, crippled mess, not really, and you'll realise that one day. I'd rather you realise that when we're not together and be grateful that I prompted you to stay away, and not realise it when we've tried to be together, and start hating your mistake. I can't bear to disappoint you that way – no, better that's cut off before it even begins_. _I'm sorry. You'll thank me one day._

 **(gap)**

After that, L came less frequently back to Wammy's House. He'd grasped that she was trying to push him away, and the avoidant in him made him run, run, run. If distant was what she asked for, distant he could do. It was time to compartmentalise. Whilst with her every day, it had been impossible to ignore his feelings. But now when constantly apart, it was much easier to place his attachment in a jar called 'Feelings For Rose', and stick it on the shelf next to 'Grief For Wammy', and those other dusty jars in his soul that it was better to ignore. Rose, for her part, took his prolonged absences as a signal that he'd taken up her advice and forgotten about the whole thing. In a way – in a pragmatic way – he had.

Summer danced in autumn, the year spiralling down gently like a leaf falling from a tree. England yawned, and declared that it would soon be time to sleep.

Rose taught her students many things. She invented role-playing games, where each child took their turn to be the 'criminal' under questioning, and the others had to establish when they were lying and how they could tell. Their somatic analysis got very good – so did their dishonesty.

Winter came, and England slept peacefully, in her muted bed-sheets of grey, brown, black and white.

Rose taught her students how to guide conversations in order to get the information one desired out of a person without them noticing. She taught them how to ask questions surrounded by other, more important-sounding questions, so the important one would pale in the memory, how to reveal details about themselves in such a way as to prompt the other to mirror them, how to build the correct sort of rapport at the correct pace without arousing suspicion. She longed to teach them martial arts... but that wasn't possible.

L had no mind for England's seasons. Had he gone outside much, he still would not have felt a rhythm of the land, for he moved country too often to sink into the heartbeat of the place. As such he was disjointed, floating over the places he worked and slept like a boat on the sea, only ever setting down anchor without stepping ashore.

He had learnt a curious thing since his brief physical interaction with Rose – he had learnt in a practical way that he was a concrete, physical thing, a body. A body full of blood and nerves and hormones. Pre-Rose, L had assumed he was one of those rare human creatures that was asexual. Now he realised that he had merely been dormant, now he noticed how his body swam with natural desires and instincts that wished to be fulfilled. _I am not a robot,_ he pondered thoughtfully.

It was a few days before Christmas, and the household staff had decorated Wammy's House with tinsel and baubles. The physiotherapist came, a short, stocky woman who had been a rugby player before a serious back injury had put her out of the game. Rose had had her, Jenny, for a couple of months now – she was much better than the first.

Jenny gave her the warm up massage, before instructing Rose to practise her exercises. It involved tensing various muscles in her core that were apparently connected to the muscles in her lower pelvis and legs – the diaphragm, transversus abdominus, multifidus. She focused and stretched, focused and tensed, over and over again.

Rose gasped. "I felt something!" There had been the tiniest glow of feeling in her right thigh, a twitch of the muscle.

Jenny nodded encouragingly. "Good, can you remember what you were holding in your mind at the time, can you remember your mental state? If you can, and can replicate it, it could really help to build that new neural pathway. See if you can do it again."

Concentrating all her mental power on her upper legs, Rose willed life into them with all her might, but to no avail. She tried to control her disappointment, but it was too hard.

"Argh! I FELT something, I really did!" Rose said, and hit the arms of her wheelchair in frustration. "Why can't I do it again?"

"Relax," Jenny soothed. "It's a really good sign that it happened, even once, we can work with that."

A tiny spark of hope was kindled in the wreckage of Rose's psyche. She resolved to practise her exercises for not half an hour, but over an hour a day.

Christmas was a surreal affair. The large dining room with its long wooden table was spread with food, mostly your standard Christmas roast with a turkey and all the trimmings, but there were all sorts of other dishes to cater for the students who had peculiar dietary preferences. Rose found herself parked at a spot next to Roger, who sat at the head of the table. He had a crappy pink Christmas hat perched lopsidedly on his greying head, whose whimsical angle totally contradicted his stern face and voice as he shouted at the children to stop climbing on the table, playing video games, building towers out of food, or pulling each other's hair. _This is ridiculous,_ Rose snorted to herself. _It's like being in a family of eccentric, dysfunctional aristocrats, who have so much money that they don't need to bother bringing their kids up well. Why did Wammy and Roger not discipline these spoilt brats? If I'm here forever, I'm going to introduce a new regime._

Near sloped in, yawning, and slid onto a seat beside her.

"So here you have it, the Christmas charade. Quite a spectacle isn't it?"

An excitable four year old flew a remote control helicopter into the gravy jug, which toppled over. The device, rolling over in the thick brown liquid for a moment, somehow stuttered back up into the air, flicking gravy off its propellers all over Roger, who howled in outrage.

Rose turned away from Roger towards Near to hide her smile. "Quite the spectacle indeed. Were you this bad when you were their age?"

"Worse," said Near matter-of-factly.

Rose raise her eyebrows. "What did you do?"

"I might have accidentally put one of my explosives inside the turkey."

"No! What happened?"

"Let's just say most of the food was inedible and Wammy called the meal off."

Rose laughed. "Must've been a good bomb."

"Oh it was. The dining room had to be redecorated. Mello was incredibly envious that I had beaten him to making good explosives – we had a bit of an arms race after that... the garden wasn't the same for years."

Rose shook her head. "Poor Wammy and Roger."

"It was their fault," Near said bluntly. Except nothing could sound that offensive in his silky, silvery voice. "They don't know how to handle kids, not really."

"Hmm, you seem to be right," Rose mused, "I wonder why they-"

But she never finished her sentence, because she was, paradoxically, interrupted by a silence. The absence of noise interrupted the hubbub like a scream interrupts a peaceful place, and she looked from Near to the room to establish why the horde of immature geniuses had gone quiet.

It was L. In a lazy manner highly reminiscent of the way Near had shuffled into the room five minute previously, he had padded into the dining room, and all his successors had fallen silent to gawp. As always happened when she first saw him on his visits, Rose's heart quickened, and she spent a few seconds mastering her body language. A few seconds later, the hordes of youths were screaming and shouting at him excitably, the youngest crowding around him to pull at his trouser legs and tell him all about something or other, the older ones remaining seated by watching him with awe and interest.

Rose had never seen him with all of Wammy's House together, only with one or two students at a time, and watched, fascinated, as he shivered with discomfort at the attention and affection of the kids. He attempted to move towards the table, plucking small sticky hands from his jeans and t-shirt, answering their questions where he couldn't possibly avoid them.

"Yes, I've been in Australia... Mmm, correct, it was hot, horribly hot... Yes of course I solved the case – I'm here, am I not?"

Eventually L succeeded in wading all the way to the head of the table, and crouched on a chair the other side of Roger.

"Roger, Fern, Near," he said quietly, looking at each of them in turn in acknowledgment. "I would have warned you of my arrival, but I didn't expect to finish that case as quickly as I did."

"That's alright. It's good to have you," Roger said gruffly, and eyed the turkey with suspicion, giving it an experimental poke. It seemed safe.

"Matt sends his regards, and apologises for his absence. Of course he's not sorry at all. He's gone to visit Misa Amane until our next case."

Roger, confident that the turkey had not been sabotaged this Christmas, began to cut slices off as the cook dished out helpings of other things. L declined, saying he'd waiting for pudding, but the rest tucked in. Rose studiously avoided looking at him except when she was absolutely sure he wasn't watching. _Can't let him see my eyes. He'll know that I'm suffering if he sees my eyes. Can't let him know._

 _She's barely looking at me_ , L observed. _Now is that because she has negated her attraction to me and no longer feels the need to look at me, or is it to avoid that very attraction? Which scenario is more likely?_ L watched her with interest for some time. Her body spoke of normality, indifference, ease, but he knew Rose was a very good liar. _There's still a possibility..._ Yet he felt that perhaps he was indulging in wishful thinking. _She looks indifferent... maybe that means she simply is indifferent. Sometimes the simplest answer is the most likely to be true._

 **(gap)**

December faded into January, January into February. Rose's exercises were starting to fruit: feeling had come back between her waist and her knees, and she could now, somewhat shakily, operate those muscles. She quelled her excitement and told nobody – not Roger, not Near, definitely not L and Matt. _No. I will tell no one until I'm fully better, just in case it's a false alarm and I never heal further than this. But fuuck, thank god it's coming back!_

Like a slow drip of water satiating someone dying of thirst, Rose felt her confidence gradually return. She knew that she should've have been more accepting of her condition, and learnt to love herself the way she was and all of that stuff her first physiotherapist had spouted to her, but she'd been incapable of it. She simply couldn't shift her identity that far.

 _Now I've just got to wait, exercise, and hope. Wait, exercise, hope. Wait, exercise, hope._

 **(gap)**

Matt was sitting on the floor of the hotel suite, building some kind of robotic contraption. He was so engrossed that he'd actually forgotten to inhale his cigarette, and a long bit of ash had accumulated, drooping for a moment, before tumbling to the floor. L watched the process unseeingly, as he mulled over the case they were about to fly to. It was a rather bizarre one, where visitors at an ashram had been periodically going missing. The ashram reportedly had a rather cultish posse of spiritual people living there, under the teachings of their guru, self-named, 'Kahili Wise'. _I'm looking forward to this one._ Matt interrupted his train of thought.

"Hey Ryuzaki, can I have this case off? I ain't seen Misa since Christmas, and that's a fucking long time in my opinion."

"But I need you," L said dubiously. He did, but he didn't want to be a slave driver either.

"Could ya borrow someone else? Please."

"But who?"

"Couldn't Aiber or Wedy go with you?"

"Hmm, yes I suppose. I'll find out if they're free."

L picked up the phone between forefinger and thumb, and made the calls. Aiber was working, but Wedy was free.

"Good. Back to Australia unfortunately – not my favourite country, but the case is good," L drawled, and licked an iced bun. "Cults, missing people, that sort of thing. Meet me here to pick up Matt's equipment, we'll fly out the day after."

Two days later L and Wedy sat on the plane. It was the middle of the night, and all the other passengers were asleep, or trying to be. Their conversation had lulled for a while, and Wedy pondered how to phrase her questions.

"How is Fern?"

"I don't know."

"Do you see her very often?"

"No. About every six or seven weeks perhaps."

"That's a shame, you guys seemed quite close."

"We were."

Wedy paused to look at his face, but it was emotionless as ever. "Are you still together?"

"We never were."

"Oh. I must've have misunderstood."

"Clearly."

L's reply was dry, but he didn't sound bitter. When no more information was forthcoming, Wedy turned to face out of the window to ponder the situation. She could feel a nervousness in her belly, a jitteriness in her limbs, excitement in her mind. She was about to spend an entire case alone with him, and he was unfettered – could it be, could it possibly be that this was the time for her dream to come true?

 **(gap)**

They were staying in Cairns, a seaside city on the North-East coast of Australia. From their hotel was a view of a turquoise sea that sparkled gaudily. It hurt L's eyes, and he drew the blinds. The suite, decked out in calming shades of white and cream and soft grey, was blessedly well air-conditioned. They had commissioned a couple of federal policemen to go undercover to the ashram, and try to work out what was going on. The policemen would be catching a train then a bus up into the rainforest at that very moment. He'd been filling in Wedy on all the details for the morning, but she was very tired from the jet lag and hadn't taken everything in. _I forget that most people sleep._

"My apologies," L offered. "Do get some rest."

So Wedy had been asleep for three hours whilst he searched social media sites to find people that had documented visiting the ashram, and tinkered with the communications with the undercover policemen.

"Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear boss."

"Good. Please check in as often as you can, take photos and videos wherever possible if you're able to do it discreetly, observe everything. And remember at all times, you could be in serious danger."

"Yes sir."

"That will be all."

Wedy, yawning, returned to the main living area. "Okay, I'm with it now. Coffee?"

"Please."

Wedy, smiling, busied herself with the coffee machine. _It's going to be a beautiful week._

 _Thanks for reading = ] Virtual penny for your thoughts?_


	45. Chapter 45: Boots

Progress had halted. As much as she tried, feeling or movement would not go past her knees. Rose's wellbeing – which had risen considerably since gaining half her legs back – could rise no further. _This is fucking infuriating._ _Still, it's not all bad is it? At least all my unmentionable parts are fully under my own control again – no more will I have to use a catheter, those vile, ungodly pieces of shit._

She had finished her lessons for the day, and had retired to her room to escape the students, when her phone buzzed on the bedside table. It was Matt.

"Hey, Fern?"

"Matt."

"How's it going?"

"Pretty good, you?"

"Yeah fucking sweet thanks, in Japan for a little while, but I need to ask you a question."

"Mmm?"

"Are your legs still like, totally fucked?"

Rose smiled wryly at his forthrightness. "Why do you need to know that?"

"Hey, just tell me okay? I absolutely promise I won't tell another a soul."

"Alright. I was going to save this information until they got fully better, but I can actually feel and move down to me knees now."

"Fucking safe as fuck!" Matt crowed down the phone. "Okay, that's told me all I need to know. Seeeeya."

"Okay, bye," Rose answered, rather bamboozled.

Four days later, a parcel arrived in the post. Rose wheeled herself from the kitchen to the hallway to investigate. The box was about three foot by three foot, with FRAGILE emblazoned all over. Watched by a couple of curious kids, she carefully pulled off the parcel tape, and lifted off a slab of polystyrene. Whatever it was, was obscured in a plastic bag, a note attached to the top.

 _Fern,_

 _Told ya in the hospital I'd make you some robotic legs, didn't I? You made my life a fucking lot easier by half-mending yourself as well, the pelvis was bloody hard to make to be honest! These should fit around your legs alright, I made them adjustable. The ankle motion is designed to react to the pressure given by your quads and your weight – it'll be bouncier than a normal ankle, but should be okay. I hope they work – send them back if not, and I'll fix them._

 _Safe,_

 _Matt._

Heart racing with anticipation, Rose tore through the plastic bag, and pulled out two boot-shaped contraptions. _Remember, don't get your hopes up too much._ They were fairly slender. On the inside was a smooth fabric lining, then a soft but very tough leather layer, and topped by some bizarre metal mechanics. She took off her shoes and socks, and guided her floppy feet and calves. With a little adjustment, the tops fitted snugly around her entire knees. Rose tested moving her knees – they were perfectly mobile, even with the contraption around them.

The kids poked them curiously. "Can you walk now Fern?"

"I don't know," she confessed.

Tentatively, oh so tentatively, she gripped the arms of the wheelchair hard and pushed herself onto her feet. She wobbled, unused to being vertical, and fell back down into sitting. Her mouth setting grimly with determination, Rose pushed herself back up.

This time she teetered, but didn't fall. The boots gripped her tightly, supporting her weight. They dug in a little around the knees where she could feel, but it was surprisingly comfortable.

Rose took a tiny step. As if on a spring, the mechanical ankle helped extend her leg, and then contracted again as she placed the foot back on the floor. She took a couple more, until she was out of reach of the wheelchair, standing on her own. Breathed heavy. A few more confident steps.

Then Rose fell to the floor, crying, and bellowing with laughter.

"I can walk! I can fucking walk! Matt you're a genius!"

The couple of kids giggled, and hugged her tightly. She squeezed them back.

With both hands on the floor, it was relatively easy to manoeuvre herself back onto her feet, and stroll across the hall. She went one way, back, the first way again, back again, getting a little faster each time, until she could almost do it running. The boots dug into her knees, but she didn't care. _Everything's going to be alright!_

She spent most of the rest of the day strolling around the house and gardens, revelling in her newfound freedom. But it wasn't enough. _I've got to actually get out of here, on my own, do normal-person stuff. I'm going to Winchester. No, scrap that – I'm going to London. Big city here I come._

It was lucky that Rose liked loose trousers, because it meant the boots fitted underneath them without trouble. Shoes were a problem though – she wanted to look as normal as possible, blend in, but none of her shoes would fit around the mechanical appendages.

"Shit," she cursed, and threw her third and final pair of shoes across the room. _What can I do?_

But it was then that she remembered the pile of Mello's possessions in the wardrobe, and so Rose walked over into the cupboard to find some shoes. After rummaging through a couple of boxes, she spied a lumpy bin bag hiding behind them. Pulling it out, she was pleased to find several pairs of shoes. Rose extracted a couple of pairs of nondescript boots, one black pair and one brown, and tried them on. The brown pair fitted perfectly around the mechanical legs, and Rose smiled in satisfaction. She flung some makeup and a coat on. _Let's go!_

Without breathing a word to anybody Rose walked down the road to the bus stop. The snowdrops lining the verges were just starting to fade, and the daffodils were almost in bloom. _Three quarters of a year,_ she mused. _Three quarters of a year I haven't even been able to walk down a road._ The mechanical boots were still digging into her flesh, and she knew she'd have terrible blisters by the time she returned, but she didn't care.

The bus carried her to Winchester, rocking and bumping. Rose tapped her hand on her leg impatiently. Dropped at the station, she caught the next train into London, staring in a heady mesmeric dream out of the window at the wintry countryside, tinged pale yellow in the watery sunset. She hadn't been further than Winchester in all that time. Even the dull February countryside looked exciting.

Swerving into London the train hissed to a stop, and she got a tube to Elephant and Castle just to wander the streets. For so long she'd been painfully visible – whenever she'd gone to Winchester Rose had been tortuously aware of the way strangers would deliberately avert their eyes from her, or stare down at her with a pitying gaze. _No longer. Now – blessed anonymity, hiddenness, freedom._ The city was buzzing and humming and thrumming with life. Rose felt it gradually seep into her soul, buoying her already overly-bouncy mechanical step. _God, I'm grinning in public like an idiot. How ridiculous_.

She wandered for hours, before stopping to eat in a mediocre Chinese restaurant. Satiated, at around eleven, it was time to drink.

Rose took another tube to a part of town where some the best underground clubs and bars were. Her memories of the days of being Fenella Green guided her steps to a warehouse – nondescript on the outside, camouflaged to the public. Stepping through the first door, she was greeted in a narrow corridor by a beefy bouncer, who took a swaggering step sideways to block her path.

"ID," he said gruffly.

Rose flipped him Fern's driving licence. His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Who do you know?"

"Campbell invited me here. Haven't seen him in a while, we're going to catch up," Rose replied coolly, hoping that the drugs dealer than ran the place was still about, and could act as a good reason for her entrance. "Used to do runs from Donny Whiz for him back in the day," she added, reckoning that the more obscure name-drop would satisfy his paranoia.

His eyes grew more relaxed. "Alright then. Just need to search you then madam."

He rifled through her coat pockets, patted down her sides and her legs, and frowned when he felt the mechanical boots jutting out around her knees. "What's this?"

 _Damn, didn't think about that._ "Prosthetic legs," she confessed, pulling up her trouser legs to reveal the top of them. "Been in a bit of trouble lately."

He examined them, and heaved himself back up. "Okay. You can go in. Just don't bring none of that 'trouble' in here with you, yeah?"

"Of course not. Thank you."

He grunted in acknowledgment, and Rose walked through the second door. The cavernous downstairs was occupied by two long bars stretching down the back and side wall opposite the door, and a raised stage along the front. There were white lights illuminating the bar and the few tables and chairs in front of it, but the rest was in semi-darkness, the dance area and band lit only in revolving colours from the stage lights, blue and yellow, green and purple red and orange. Some kind of fashionable band was playing, in a modern fusion of 60's psychedelia and 90's grunge. The front woman looked like she was trying to be half way between Kate Bush and Courtney Love, the rest of the band – male – were equally self-consciously attired. _Their music's good though,_ Rose recognised, and nodded in time to the thick, grimy, haunting noises they made as she approached the bar. Upstairs was the 'club' bit, where they played up-and-coming electronic dance music through oversized speakers. Rose had done that sort of thing in the past a little, but she figured not even with her magical mechanical boots could she dance quite that vigorously.

Having ordered a double whiskey and glass of water, she took to a seat by a tiny round table, soaking in the atmosphere and her regained independence. It was blissful. Her mind wandered to L. _Where is he? What's he doing? Will he still want to work with me? Will he still... want me?_

Rose sipped her whiskey, musing, trancing-out to the music for almost an hour. It was now coming up to twelve and the warehouse was filling up. There were a few small-time criminals from her previous English incarnation around, but luckily none of them seemed to recognise her, and left her in peace. She got another drink.

"Well well, is that who I think it is?"

Rose stiffened at the voice, and turned her head to see two men staring at her. She groaned inwardly. "Hello Keith. Jonny." They were guys that The Group had supplied to.

"Bloody'ell, tis a well." Keith scowled. "I heard what you fucking did you fucking traitor. Lost me my job! It's fucking only luck that kept me outta prison!"

 _Shit. Shit shit shit._ "No, you've got the wrong end of the stick," she attempted to say calmly, frantically thinking of a reasonable excuse, but standing up warily in case she had to run for it.

Jonny hissed, and pulled a small knife out of his pocket. "Better think carefully about what you say next, else you'll be on the wrong end of THIS stick you stupid bitch."

Rose gulped. The sight of the knife made her finger-stumps ache and her gut flip with sickness.

"What's going on here boys?"

She whirled round at the slightly familiar voice, and was greeted by an unexpected sight. It was Mello. The young man was resplendent in a dark brown, lustrous fur coat, smiling slightly, sphinx-like, at the scene in front of him. Rose could almost imagine the sphinx's lion-tail curling lazily from side to side behind him.

"Nothing M," assured Keith, "it's just that this woman's a two-faced cunt and needs to get what's coming to her."

Mello laughed a boyish laugh. "Don't be an idiot. Do you think Campbell and I would let her in here if that was true?" Keith went a little red-faced. "Put the knife down, Jonny," Mello told the other man disparagingly. "Don't meddle in what you don't understand, this woman's been through a lot for us. Now, fuck off and get to work."

"Sorry M," they mumbled, and with one last confused scowl at Rose, the pair moped into the dance crowd.

Rose let out a shuddering breath of relief. "Thank you!" and then, once the adrenaline began to subside, raised her eyebrows at him. "Someone's got a lot of authority for one so young, haven't they?"

Mello smirked. "It's not hard. Some of us are just born Übermensch, isn't it."

She rolled her eyes at his cockiness, his Nietzsche allusion. _Like a more overtly narcissistic version of L. Typical. Wammy's House is just a nursery for cocky bastards. I seriously need to sort out their educational regime._

"So this is what you've been doing? Working your way into criminal power?"

"Sort of."

"Is that a good use of your time?"

He shrugged. "I've got some great plans, excuse me not sharing them with you. But enough about me, how're you walking again?" His aquamarine eyes flicked down to her feet, and then widened with surprise. "Those are my shoes!"

Rose blushed guiltily. "Shit, sorry. First your room now your clothes."

Mello grinned a Cheshire-cat grin. "Careful Fern, I'm starting to think somebody likes me."

"Nothing like that," she assured. "Matt made me some mechanical legs – none of my shoes fit over them."

"Yeah yeah, whatever you want to tell yourself." He pulled out a chocolate bar and took a smug bite. "The music's alright, but screw this public area. Come up to the lounge. Don't worry, Campbell's not in tonight, so if those guys were speaking the truth about you having beef around here, no one with any real power can bother you."

Rose weighed it up. _If Mello – or 'M' – has as much authority as he seems to, I'll be alright_. "Okay. Let's go."

They took the stairs up past the clubbing floor, to another door with a bouncer. The burly man quickly opened the door as soon as he saw the slender, girlish Mello. _What the hell has he done to get them so obsequious? Hmm, maybe I don't want to know to be honest._

The room was full of lush sofa's, people gambling and drinking and snorting ambiguous white powders, men with scantily clad women on their laps or under their arms.

"I hope you don't expect me to behave like that," Rose joked, indicating the other females. Mello gave a boyish laugh.

"Don't worry, I'm fully aware you're a far more sophisticated woman. I'll have to try harder than waving my money and drugs around to get YOU on my lap," he joked in return, though Rose couldn't be entirely sure that she hadn't seen a serious glint in his tropical-sea eyes.

Mello shooed a couple of people off a sofa, and watched them scurry off as he and Rose took seats. It was warm up in this smaller room, and they both took their coats off and draped them over the arms of the sofa. He was in a black vest again.

"Do you partake?" He asked, spreading a pile of powder on the glass table.

"What is it?"

"Coke."

"No. I have done a few times, but it makes me feel absolutely dreadful the couple of days after."

"Suit yourself." He used a rolled up note to get some of the powder off the table and into his nostril. "You drink?"

"Yes."

Mello beckoned a man over from the bar, and turned back to her. "What do you want?"

"Whiskey. Single malt."

He nodded in appreciation. "Girl's got style. Bring us the bottle, Jim."

"As you wish, M."

Rose tsked at the obedience. "I'm very curious as to how you got yourself to this position so quickly."

"Wouldn't you like to know. Gonna hand me over to L, are you? Gonna get me arrested?" He taunted, flicking his hair over his shoulders as he reached into the fur coat to find his chocolate bar. He took a mocking bite.

Rose smiled dryly. "Not yet. Maybe one day." She was very perplexed by the man-child. L was a man-child too, but in a quiet sort of way. Mello's childishness was loud and violent and attention-seeking – he was all petulant toddler and rebellious, angsty teenager.

The bottle of whiskey arrived, and they poured generous glasses.

"To freedom!" Mello toasted.

"Freedom?"

"Yes – your new legs have made you free, and I've always been free to do whatever the fuck I want. Anarchy in the UK! FREEDOM!"

Rose laughed. "To freedom", she agreed.

More conversation ensued, and before long mates of Mello's joined them and a game of poker began. Rose declined to play, but had great fun examining the 'poker faces' of Mello and the two other men. They were all pretty rubbish at hiding their emotions in Rose's opinion – she'd figured out who was winning and who was losing in about ten minutes.

Mello won the first game and he glowed. However he lost the second game, and his face contorted with anger. "Fuck this fucking shit," he muttered, and kicked the table. Rose raised her eyebrows but didn't comment.

"Another game?" One of the men asked.

"Nah fuck this. Plus, it's hardly entertaining for my friend, is it?"

"On the contrary, I find it quite entertaining," Rose countered, and amused herself with his annoyance at her not playing the role of excuse that he wanted her to.

"Whatever. It's a stupid game anyway. Will you two leave me alone?"

The men graciously departed at his rudeness, and Mello poured more whiskey. Rose had been having some glasses of wine every week at Wammy's House and was glad – she'd have never had the tolerance for the whiskey otherwise. She felt contentedly delirious, and then suddenly remembered she had to get back and rest in time to teach.

"Bollocks, I've missed the last train back to Winchester. There's not another till 5:30am!"

Mello waved a dismissive hand in the air. "It's fine, I'll take you."

"You drive?"

"Motorbike," he grinned. "Ever been on one before?"

"Nope."

"You're in for a treat."

"Don't do it drunk."

"I rarely ride a bike sober," he replied, "you'd probably be in much more danger if I WASN'T drunk. Besides, the charlie sharpens me up."

Rose grumbled her assent, and after another half an hour or so, they left.

Being on the bike was exhilarating. She gripped Mello tightly as they hurtled through the darkness, streetlights and cars flashing by, the wind whipping her, the helmet heavy on her head. _It's almost like flying._

They flew out of the city, whizzing down the M3 at what speed Rose didn't care to ask. The whiskey, the roar, and the ever-changing sights lulled her into hypnosis. In less than two hours they were slowing down for the gates of Wammy's House, and Rose held her pass to the sensor.

"Can I come in and get a couple of my things that I want?"

"Sure."

So they thumped into the house, attempting to soften the sound of their heavy boots, finally reaching Rose's – Mello's – room. The door shut behind them, and Mello leaned his shoulder on it, sticking his hip out, in the same position he'd stood there last time. He watched her lazily.

"You're not finding your things," she pointed out.

"Touché." He bobbed his golden head. "Alright, I said there were a couple of things I want, but I lied when I said they were mine."

"Meaning...?"

"The main thing I want right now is you."

Rose looked at him in surprise, but then sighed. _I should have realised this was going to happen_ , _should've read the signs._ "Well, you know that wouldn't be a good idea."

Mello grinned. "I thought you'd say that. But why not? You're not tied to anyone, are you?"

"No, but-"

"If you're thinking of L, don't. Did he even make a proper effort to keep you, or did he just let you bat him away in your self-sacrificing suffering? Come on. He's not gonna care, or even know, so neither should you."

"Well, it's still not a good idea."

"What's wrong, don't think you can sleep with a younger man?" He took a bite of chocolate, and replaced it carefully in his pocket before approaching her. Rose stiffened, but didn't move away. His marine eyes held hers, and she allowed him to touch the back of his hand to her face, trail his fingers down her neck. "I won't disappoint you know," he murmured, "I've had plenty of experience, don't let my age fool you. Which is twenty one by the way," he added, lips near her forehead.

"Hmmm..." Rose answered unhelpfully. _I'm conflicted. I WAS thinking about L... but now Mello is this close I can feel that intoxicating golden aura, I'm not sure I want to resist. Is it wrong?_

"How long has it been since you've been pleasured properly?" he asked softly, and pulled her closer by the hips. "Because if it's been since before your paralysis, then you're in some serious fucking need."

"Hmmm," Rose replied again, distracted by the feeling of his hands. _He's right, I DO need it._ _This might be kind of weird and wrong, but... to hell. It's going to happen_. Recklessness had been with her all day, it had been what had taken her to London in the first place. It hadn't left her yet. And so Rose let her hands mirror his, let his mouth find hers, and succumbed to her bodily temptation.

 _Whooopsee haha xD Thanks for reading = ] Do review if you have a moment. I'll be posting one more tomorrow and then I'm off camping for aaaaggggeeeessss, so I apologise in advance for that D:_


	46. Chapter 46: It Begins

_Thanks for reviewing, haha I know that was a cruel thing to do to you and the characters! Believe me, it was hard writing it, just coz I knew how wrong it was xD But it was totally necessary from a plot point of view for two reasons, both which will become apparent eventually! Here's an extra-long chapter to make up for the fact I'm now going to be away for aaaagggeees. Enjoy._

Rose woke up with a start and groaned. She'd been dreaming of L, but somehow her consciousness of what had happened the night before had wormed its way into the dream and her own guiltiness had woken her up. _Urgh, my head aches. And my knees_. Lifting the covers off, Rose inspected the damage. Her knees were bruised and rubbed raw from her weight and motion pressing into the boots. _I'll have to get Matt to make them more supported and comfortable somehow._

Rose lay on her back, and cradled her headache gently. _That was an interesting decision I made,_ she pondered ruefully. _Why did I do that?_ It wasn't that she hadn't enjoyed having sex with Mello – she had – but at all times there'd been a small reserve of numbness and detachment that couldn't be simply blamed on the alcohol. She'd felt it all right, physically, and he had been right that he was very good, but it hadn't broken into her soul like it had with L, hadn't tore open the core of her being from the inside, leaving her vulnerable, sensitive, alive. L. He had unbiddenly come to her mind more than once during the whole experience. _What a psychological mess I am._ _I wonder what it would do to Mello's ego if he knew I'd thought about L when we were doing that stuff._ Rose groaned again, rubbed her eyes, laughed wryly to herself a bit. _I'm not sure I want to see THAT particular tantrum._

 _No,_ she concluded, _I'm not really sure why I did that. Maybe it was a confidence thing – I've felt so ugly for so long. Maybe just boredom and frustration, maybe curiosity. Hmm. I wonder what HIS reasons were? Well, it's happened now._

After making herself presentable, Rose went downstairs to Roger's office where the untraceable phone resided. Often its bland plastic presence had taunted her when she visited Roger, beckoning innocently, whispering to her just how easy it would be to reach out, call him... But she had resisted. _Now, though... Now I can!_

She reached out and called. It rung into the ether, but didn't get through. Rose was disappointed. _After all that time, what a letdown._ And so Rose went about her day as usual, went to bed at 3am. Fell asleep.

Two hours later, she was woken by a gentle but insistent knocking on her door. "Come in!" she called blearily, not wanting to have to find and put on her boots just to open the door. After a moment's silence the door hushed open over the carpet, and a barefooted Near padded in.

"Sorry to disturb you Fern, but Roger needs you to come down to his office as soon as you can," he said quietly in his velvety tones.

"Why?"

"He hasn't told me yet, just told me to get you first."

"Okay, just let me put my legs on."

Near watched with interest. "Matt's done a good job."

"He has." Luckily it was a cold night, so Rose already had her pyjamas on. "Okay let's go."

One clunky, the other silent, they trod down the corridor and stairs and into Roger's office. His elderly face was heavy.

"Fern, Near, I got up unusually early this morning – it's mostly my age, I just can't seem to sleep in these days. But I looked at the news. Something strange has happened."

"What?"

"The prime minister's been assassinated."

Rose pulled a face of surprise, and Near cooed in amazement beside her. "That's big."

"It is." Roger's eyebrows knitted together with solemnity. "Now I am sure that by now, the government will be desperately hoping L will solve this mystery. He hasn't been responsive for the last day, which is rather worrying in itself, but I can guarantee that as soon as he resurfaces, L will take the case. Meanwhile, every second is precious. If you two wouldn't mind beginning to get a feel for what's going on, it could make all the difference." Roger yawned.

"Of course."

"In that case I'll pose as Watari and tell the police that the case is taken, immediately. If necessary, you could do a convincing L impression, couldn't you Near?"

"I'm sure that's within my capabilities," Near agreed quietly, twirling a short lock of white hair between his fingers.

"Do you think he's alright?" Rose asked, and Roger rubbed his eyes.

"I don't know. He's only been un-contactable for this long once or twice before," Roger confessed. "But he's a clever chap. He can handle things."

"Hmmm," Rose responded dubiously, but there wasn't much she could do about, not with a case to work on. _A case, a real case!_ It had been a while.

"The police will send you all the unpublicised details as soon as I've communicated with them. Meanwhile, see what you can do without it."

"Will do!"

Shortly after, Rose opened the 6am news on her laptop, whilst Near gathered all online media sources tweeting, blogging, vlogging etc about the assassination. They were in his room – this time there'd been no towering Lego city to avoid.

"The Prime Minister David Carlton has been assassinated," said the news reporter. "Witness report hearing a gunshot at 4.34am this morning, at which the metropolitan police were called. They arrived at the property to find him dead in bed, shot once through the heart. The police force at this very moment are working to find the perpetrator of this terrible tragedy."

Near tsked. "They're glossing over some details. The reporters that got to the scene itself are screaming all over the internet that it wasn't Number 10 Downing Street where he was killed, but some flat in Hendon."

"I know it – fairly well to do North London area, right?"

"The very same. There's pictures to prove it."

Rose peered over. Some slightly shaky but high-res paparazzi shots showed a modest block of flats, only five or six storeys tall, cordoned off by police tape. It looked a pleasant place, with a couple of trees and well tended shared flower beds around its secure car park, despite the rubbish 70's architecture.

"Aaah a live feed," Near observed, with as much excitement as his velvety voice was capable of.

 _Like L, so controlled_. _Oh, focus! This is not the time to be mooning over an absent man._

A paparazzi had managed to break into the block of flats, and was running along a corridor with a camera phone. "I'm in the block of flats," came his wheezy, out of breath voice from somewhere behind the wobbling camera, "I'm going to find out who's flat it is!"

Rose and Near watched with interest as the wibbly footage traversed corridors and mounted stairs. Finally, on the fourth floor, the paparazzi stumbled across two policemen guarding a door. The policeman growled angrily and tried to bat away the video – the phone fell to the floor, but didn't turn off before they heard the paparazzi yell, "it's flat 14!"

The absence of video left a black hole in the news thread. "So, what now?" Rose asked. "Will other journalists be working out who lives in the flat?"

"I suspect so."

Sure enough twenty minutes later another journalist had posted the identity of the owner – Jessie Golding, an attractive lady of around thirty.

"Oooh, how scandalous," Rose smirked. "Politician having an affair, how not surprising."

"It's more than that," Near scrolled through some more tweets, "apparently she was a high class prostitute."

"Equally unsurprising. And I suppose it was her that called the police? 'Witnesses', how vague of the news."

"Yes it seems that way."

At that there was a sharp rap on the door, and Roger burst through without waiting. "L has contacted me! He's flying home immediately."

Rose breathed a subtle sigh of relief. All morning she'd been plagued intermittently with images of him lying dead in some Australian desert. _Thank god._

"That means L will address the police himself. He's borrowed a private plane, so can make the address whilst flying. He should be here in just over 24 hours."

"I want to go to the crime scene. Will the police let me through?"

"No, but they will once we've contacted them. I'll tell them L has requested a special agent visit. Sit tight, do some research, have a sleep, and be ready in a few hours."

"Okay."

Roger left.

"So what do you reckon the story is?" Rose mused. "Did jealous wife put someone up to it? A jealous lover? Something politically motivated – maybe instigated by a rival? Or a stranger?"

"All plausible. I think it's too early to tell. You should get some rest, now Roger's got L on the case you might not be sleeping much," Near recommended.

"What about you?"

"Well, now L has been contacted my role is redundant. I will follow the case in my own way."

"Oh yes, of course. But doesn't that technically make me redundant too?"

"Did you not say L wished to work with you again when you mended?"

"Yes, but-"

"Well there's your answer then," Near said as if it were blindingly obvious. "You should know as well as I that he would not say such a thing lightly."

"I suppose you're right." Rose smiled. "Thanks, Near. I better go and get ready."

She was far too wired to sleep, but Rose knew she must try and relax, keep a calm mind. So she meditated for half an hour, allowing the chattering of her brain to quiet down. This would help her be able to alertly sift through the ocean of potentially important information without getting drowned, help her astutely pick out the relevant details. After, she lowered herself into the bath, and washed herself slowly and therapeutically. _That's probably used up enough time – if I go to London now by the time I get there I'm sure Roger will have visited the Met already._

It was about an hour and a half later, ten minutes from the train arriving at its destination, that Rose's phone rang. It was a Skype call from an unknown user, just the audio. She answered it curiously.

"Hello?"

"Fern this is Ryuzaki."

Before Rose was able to formulate an eloquent response, L's low quiet voice continued, and Rose clutched the phone tighter to her ear, as if it could make him closer. _His voice... so melodic for something so monotonous. How does he do that?_

"I have been informed that you intend to visit the scene. Please meet Watari at the Metropolitan Police Headquarters before going, he will provide you with some necessary items."

Rose opened her mouth to speak, but he had already hung up. _That was brisk_. _I suppose I shouldn't really be surprised. Though, it's not like we've seen each other for a while, a 'hello how's it going' wouldn't go amiss._

When she arrived at the police station, Watari gave her a fake ID. Miss Ruby Smithson. "This is who you are to the police okay – you'll be let through." He handed her a wad of photos taken straight after the incident. "For reference."

A while later Rose entered the block of flats. _No signs of breaking and entering._ _Does that mean the culprit had access, was let in, found another route, or didn't come in at all?_

Up the stairs to the fourth floor. Flashed her ID to the police guarding the door to the flat, and entered. The modest flat was done up modernly, stylishly, sexily – if sexy could be used to describe interior design. It was all supple fabric, sultry curves and angles, sensuous lights. One large cupboard revealed a plethora of 'props' – fantasy outfits, over the top lingerie, hats, cuffs, masks, and other yet more disreputable items. _Definitely a prostitute. Or do we call these ones call girls?_

The bedroom was the scene of the crime. David Carlton had been shot just once in the heart, as he lay naked in bed. They had taken the body away, but Rose could study the photographs. He'd been lying on his side, facing towards a wall featuring a dresser and a window, and had been shot from the front.

The room was oddly peaceful. It still smelt a little of the metallic hint of blood, but the flat was so quiet and calm. Rose stood there in peace for a moment.

 _Brrrrr Brrrrr Brrrrrr._

The vibration of her phone shocked her and she took a little leap backwards. _Unknown caller._

"Yes?"

"I've been looking at the building's CCTV – no one had entered or left that building for four hours previous to the crime, and no one slipped out before the police arrived."

 _No beating around the bush is there_ , Rose thought dryly. "So, that puts suspicion on someone allowed to be in the building. Besides, there's no evidence of breaking and entering."

"It does, but that's not the only possibility. Tell me is there any way the shot could have reached Carlton from outside the building?"

Rose squared up the photo of Carlton's body with the window. "Yes," she concluded. "They could have shot through the window if they were in the opposite block of flats."

"Okay. Check that block. I'll research the residents of the one you're currently in meanwhile."

And he hung up again. Rose scowled at the phone, irked by the brusqueness. It made her feel bad – as if he somehow already knew what had happened the night before. _That's not possible, is it? No. That's just the way he is normally._

She stood at the window looking at the other block of flats. It was very similar to the one she was in, five floors, well manicured flower beds. Her practised eye imagined straight bullet paths from those windows, through this one, and to the spot on the bed where Carlton's chest had been. _There's only... fifteen windows where that shot is possible to make. If the interior mirrors this block, then that's only five possible flats, and out of those, the central two are the most plausible, for they give the most direct shot. I'll start with them._

Rose quickly exited, crossed the road, and examined the name tags above the buzzers. She couldn't tell for sure what flat numbers she was after, so made a random guess. 15, Matt Rogers.

"Hello?" Crackled the voice.

"This is detective Smithson, I'm with the police investigating the murder. I'd like to ask you a couple of questions."

"Urh, sure."

She was let in, and took the stairs up to the fourth floor, flat 15. Her guess had been right – it lay in precisely the position she'd expected. Rose knocked, and was let in.

"Matt," he said, offering his hand, "Matt Rogers."

"Ruby Smithson," Rose responded, shaking his hand and giving a small professional smile. He had a firm, cool handshake. _The handshake of an innocent man, or a good liar?_

Matt Rogers was a well shaved, mousey haired man of about thirty five, with a middle-England accent. He wore glasses, and a pressed shirt even though it was Sunday. He had a square, unblemished, symmetrical face, which could've been handsome if he didn't come across as extremely boring. His wrist bore a moderately expensive watch. Rose tried not to jump to conclusions about his character from only looks, but it all screamed unimaginative, workaholic bachelor.

"Would you like a drink? Tea? Coffee?"

"Yes, please. Tea." Rose used the time to study the living room they passed through, and the kitchen they entered. _Quite clean, but not obsessively so_. Nothing jumped out to her trained eye. Soon the tea was made.

"I'll ask a few questions now, if that's okay."

"Fire ahead." He motioned for her to take a seat at the kitchen table, and sat down opposite her.

"Did you know the lady in flat 14 across the road?"

"Nope. Don't think I've talked to anyone at all from that block." His boring blue eyes were honest.

"Okay. Did you see or hear anything unusual last night and early this morning?"

He thought for a moment. "I thought I heard footsteps above my ceiling when I got back from the pub about half one."

"What makes that unusual?"

"Well the flat's empty," he said simply. "No one's lived there for the entire year I've been here."

"I see." _He could be trying to deflect suspicion. But his body language is extremely relaxed, very consistent._ "What time exactly did you arrive home?"

He shrugged. "Just around half one, not sure. I'd had a couple of beers with my work colleagues."

"And did you hear the gunshot three hours later?"

"No, slept through it. I was woken up by the police sirens and all the journalists screaming a little bit later though."

"Okay, thank you Mr Rogers. Is there anything else you think could be relevant to tell me? Any suspicious, or simply unusual things happening around here lately?"

Matt Rogers thought, and rubbed his smooth chin for a few seconds. "No, I don't think so."

Rose downed the rest of her very hot tea. "That will be all then, for now." She stood up. "I may come back later, or another day."

"Sure." He gave her a placid smile.

Rose took her leave, and made her way to the fifth floor. _I'm glad I'm not as boring as Mr Rogers. I wonder what he does – accountancy probably._ She remembered from the name tags at the front door that the only flat without a name attached was flat 22. _That must be it_. Sure enough, number 22 was positioned about Matt Roger's flat. Pushing the door, fully expecting it to be locked, Rose was surprised tp find that it swung open with ease. This set off minor alarm bells ringing in her ears. _I must be careful not to touch too much._ Examining the lock, she found it had been destroyed discreetly, from the inside.

The layout was the same as Matt's, the front door opening into the living room, with a kitchen off to the left, and a bedroom and bathroom off to the right. Windows looking over the street were directly opposite the door. Rose didn't move for a moment, and took in the room. It was empty, as Matt said, just a creamy brown carpet and white walls. Treading carefully to the kitchen, she peered in and found it equally empty. Nothing in the cupboards. Crossing back into the bedroom however, revealed more.

On the windowsill lay an ashtray with four cigarette butts. In front of the windowsill a plain plastic chair sat, and across the seat lay a handgun with just one bullet chamber – a pistol. Rose stared at it disbelievingly. _Why would an assassin leave his murder weapon at the scene of the crime? Surely that's more than stupid._ She took out her phone and photographed it. There was something about this place that was making the back of her neck tingle with warning.

Turning, Rose saw that a message had been daubed crudely on the door to the bathroom in red paint.

 _A.K. J.B. – this is for you and all your kin!_

Next to it was a rough anarchy symbol. Rose snapped a picture of that too, and turned the handle of the bathroom door.

Something made a clicking, clunking noise, and that made Rose freeze with fear even before she saw the homemade bomb rigged up in the bathtub.

"Fuck!"

Something, a timer maybe, was beeping, and Rose didn't hang around to find out. She was out of there like lightening, stumbling slightly with the novelty of running with her mechanical feet, and flew down the corridor towards the stairs. She was halfway down to the fourth floor when a shudder ripped itself through the building, knocking her off her feet, as a huge boom and crash resounded in her ears. Screams and shout came from various flats, and as she righted herself and carried on down the stairs people started coming out and tearing down the stairs too.

As she reached the bottom the sprinklers came on, and she stepped dripping onto the street. The policemen guarding the opposite block of flats were desperately calling for reinforcements, for they couldn't leave their posts.

"There's no point searching the building, no one's there, I can vouch for it," Rose said wearily. _I'm so unfit these days._

"Be that as it may detective, it's protocol."

"Alright."

She turned to look up at the building. Where flat 22 had been was now a smoking, jagged hole. _I wonder if Matt Roger's is okay. He's probably dead_ , she realised, and regretted thinking such uncharitable thoughts about him only minutes before. _What the hell did that writing mean? What's going on?_

Rose reached into her pocket to call L, but then put it back with frustration when she remembered she actually had no way of contacting him anymore. _Hurry up and get back. It's just not the same doing this on my own_.

And then she remembered what she'd done, and a flood of guilt washed down over her shoulders like a cold bucket of water. _Shit. Do I tell him? Have I screwed it up by one day of reckless behaviour? I mean, technically there was no reason for either of us to think it wrong, but... Hmm, I don't know. I didn't think I'd be seeing him so soon... not that that should really make any difference. Urgh. I'll have to wait and see._

 **(gap)**

It was 7.30am, and Rose was organising herself some breakfast. She piled some chopped fruit on a plate next to some toast, and wandered down the corridor with it, munching. She heard a crunching of gravel and the hum of an engine, and sped up her pace to the hall. The heavy oak from door clicked, swung open, and there was L.

She was surprised to see how gaunt and pale he looked, even for him. His emotionless face was skeletal, his eyes inscrutable pits of darkness.

"Welcome back," she managed to utter after a moment of observing him.

"Thank you." L let the bags he was holding drop to the floor, but didn't move, staring ahead of him as if his thoughts were far away.

"Are you alright?"

The question seemed to rouse him a little. "Never been better," he said flatly. "Help me take these things upstairs – we need to get to work immediately."

"Don't you think you should sleep first? You'll have terrible jet lag."

"No," L rejected curtly, even though the bags under his eyes were clearly bruised twice as purple as usual. "There's no time to waste."

 _What's caused the deadness in his eyes? It can't possibly be related to... no, it can't be._

They carried the equipment to L's wing and set it up.

"How was Australia?" Rose asked cautiously.

"Hot, how was England?"

"Cold." Rose felt like he'd deflected that question rather suspiciously quickly. "How was the case?" She saw his knuckles whiten as they gripped his knees harder. It was the only sign that her question had hit home, he hadn't once turned to look at her since they'd been up there, so she couldn't read his eyes.

"The case is solved. They have been brought to justice." He tonelessly replied.

"It was that bad, was it?"

There was a silence.

"Let's just say... there are some things that happen, and people one meets, that remind you how monstrous humanity can be, when it really tries," he eventually answered, very quietly.

 _Thank god. I hate seeing him like this, but at least it's not about me._ "I'm sorry," Rose offered. "I won't mention it again."

"That would be preferable."

Rose made some coffee, and brought in the cake the cook had made for his arrival.

"Walk me through everything that you observed when you went to the flat."

She recounted the tale, in full detail unlike over the phone the night before, and brought up the pictures for him to examine. His eyes rested intently on the writing for a good minute or so, and his thumb stroked across his bottom lip, pulling it sideways, releasing it, pulling it sideways again. As always when L did that, Rose found herself inescapably transfixed by the motion, tingled inside, and then had to shake her head to escape the trance. _Dammit, why do you have to do that? It makes me lose all focus on what I'm supposed to be thinking about._

"A.K., J.B.," he murmured. "Initials?"

"I think that's the safest assumption," Rose agreed, forcing herself to looking at the screen too. L flicked back to the photo of the fag ends and gun.

"This is all very interesting. I'm beginning to get a clearer picture of the sort of person we're looking for. The sort of person we're looking for, is someone a bit like... you." L's head twisted to stare at her.

"Me?" Rose said surprised, before realising that he didn't literally mean that he thought SHE had done the crime. "Oh I see, someone that sets traps and tests for the police and detectives tracking them."

"Precisely. We're looking at a game-player, and a confident one. He leaves the door open, inviting us in. He teases us by leaving hard evidence at the scene: there will be traces of saliva and skin of the cigarettes, fingerprints on the gun – genuine ones I suspect, I imagine this person likes to play dangerously. He writes the message to lead us to the bathroom, and... bang, destroys the evidence, and possibly the people looking at it. Very theatrical."

"What do you make of the message? Do you think it genuinely means something, or was just a ploy to get me to trigger the bomb?"

"Hmm." L skewered a strawberry from the cake with a fork. He still looked tired, but the excellent cake and working on the case seemed to have brought a little life back into him. "My instinct is that it contains genuine meaning. If he wanted to simply play a game with the law, any murder would have sufficed. But no, he makes the effort of killing the Prime Minister himself."

"I see your point. He does seem to be trying to make some kind of anti-establishment statement, what with the anarchy symbol and all."

"Those initials..." L pondered. A few seconds later he was typing into Google: "John Billingham". Read swiftly, and sat back. "Yes I thought so. Have you heard of John Billingham?"

"No," Rose admitted.

"He was the only person to assassinate a British Prime Minister before our current suspect. He murdered PM Spencer Perceval on the 11th May 1812 – and, most significantly, by shooting him in the heart with a pistol."

"Aah! Just like our current suspect!" Rose chimed eagerly. "I'm impressed you knew of him," she added.

L shrugged. "I don't really forget things. So if I come across a fact just once, it will be with me forever."

"So you think it's a reference?"

"There's a high chance. I think this is another step of the game he's playing."

Rose studied the story of John Billingham. "Get this – Billingham shot Perceval because he'd been wrongly imprisoned in Russia for five years, for a debt he didn't actually owe. He had repeatedly asked the British government for help, but they did nothing. With his business and life in ruins, he returns and they still refuse to help him. So he decides to shoot the Prime Minister just to get their attention!"

"Hmmm. Is there meaning in that?" L mused, eyes on the ceiling. "Or is it irrelevant information? Something tells me that with a murderer like this, nothing is by accident."

"What about the other initials?"

They both stared at them, but neither had any sparks of inspiration. They combed the internet for a while but "A.K." didn't come up with any seemingly relevant results.

"Though I think we don't know enough yet to say what A.K.'s could be relevant," Rose reminded.

"Yes, I think you're right. 'For you and all your kin'." L read out. "This could have many meanings."

"It could mean 'for J.B. and A.K.' personally, but that would seem out of place with the Billingham idea."

"True. Or it could mean people _like_ Billingham, fellow anarchic assassins."

"True. And 'kin' could mean family, or just friends, or just those with a similarity."

"Yes." L was thoughtful. "Though, even if the Billingham connection is correct – and I think it is – that does not rule out the possibility of A.K. being a personal, even family connection. That could explain the dedication, and perhaps some motivation."

"Yes, and that would explain why we couldn't find any relevant famous A.K.'s.," Rose agreed.

"Your paralysis. How is it?"

The sudden change of subject surprised her. "Alright. I can feel down to my knees now. And Matt's boots are really quite incredible – they'll be perfect when I sort out the blisters."

"Good."

At that, Roger's letter R appeared on the computer screen. He was 'being Watari' until Matt got back from Japan.

"I've just had a call from the police. They rang to inform us that they'd been contacted by some residents of the second block of flats – a young couple – who said that something suspicious happened on the night of the assassination."

"And what was that?"

"They ordered a pizza. At about 11.30pm, the pizza delivery arrives, and the bearer rings on their buzzer to be let in. But then they never turn up at the flat."

Rose and L both felt themselves perk up. "Really? Now that's very interesting."

"Could be our man."

"Bring up the CCTV," L told her.

Rose did so, and sure enough, at 11.41pm, a pizza delivery motorbike drew up at the block, and the rider was let into the building. They looked like a slender, fairly flat-chested woman, who wore riding gear of course, black leathers and a big black helmet, so was totally obscured. On her back was a large black backpack, and she carried a pizza box in her hands.

They fast-forwarded to just after the assassination. A few people trickled out to see what the disturbance had been. When the police and journalists arrived, even more people streamed out of the block to witness the commotion.

"No pizza girl," Rose observed.

"No pizza girl's clothes," L corrected. "She could easily have hidden a change in that huge bag."

"But she could be any one of these women, there must be at least twenty!"

"She could. We must try to narrow her down in other ways." L yawned. "I think you're right after all."

"What?"

"I should sleep."

Rose nodded in approval. "I'll go then, let me know when you're up." She got up and walked towards the door, painfully conscious that the last time they'd worked together she would not have felt that she had to leave. As she reached the door, she heard him mumble.

"What?" Rose questioned.

"I said, it's good to work with you again."

Rose smiled. "You too." And then she left.

L swivelled his computer chair, and stared blank-faced at the door, his insides twisting up. _Oh Rose, what would you think if you knew the things I'd done last week? Could you forgive me for either of them?_

 _Sorry to leave you on so many cliffhangers! I'm on holiday a hell of a lot now, but if possible I'll try to update mid-August before I go away again. Much love to every reader out there, thanks for reading my words._


	47. Chapter 47: Lady in the Hat

_So here's the mid-August update I promised – I'm sorry I'm away so much, but that's the summer for you! I spend most of my time camping haha. Cheers for the reviews, sorry to break your heart Aura, and Lovelytales thanks for pointing out the yen thing – weirdly, I looked up yen beforehand to check I was writing a sensible amount, so I must've just missed a zero when writing it in, how annoying!_ _Anyway, here's some story._

The following morning L and Rose sat side by side on the sofa in L's wing, watching the computer screen. Jessie Golding, the high-class prostitute witness to the Prime Minister's murder, was walking into the police interview room on live feed. A normal detective was conducting the interview, but Roger as Watari had hooked up L's audio channel to their laptop in case he and Rose felt the need to interject.

Jessie was petite, curvaceous and blonde. Her hair was coiled upon the top of her head, and Rose couldn't help but think it looked like a bizarre golden dog-poo perched there by accident. Jessie's red-painted lip quavered slightly as the detective began asking her questions. After a few, L got bored of the man asking pointless things, and took over.

"Jessie Golding, of all the people that could be accessory to this crime, the most obvious suspect of you. Give me a good reason for me not to believe that you set David Carlton up."

Jessie's lip quavered more, her eyes scrunched up. "I'm no murderer! I liked him, he was a good regular customer, treated me with respect. Believe me, there's some people I'd like to see dead, but David wasn't one of them."

"That's not good enough." L watched as his words caused her to crumple. _Actually Jessie, I fully believe already that you didn't intend for him to die just from your face and your naivety, but you don't need to know that yet._ "Who did you tell?"

"Tell what?"

"That the Prime Minister was your regular customer. I need to know every person."

Jessie Golding shifted guiltily in her seat. "A few! Urghh, he told me not to tell..." she sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I should've listened! I told a few of my girlfriends, my colleagues, ya know? I couldn't resist sharing that juicy gossip, oh why do I have such a big mouth?" she wailed piteously.

"And what of your manager?" L probed.

"I don't have one, I work for myself."

 _She's lying_ , Rose thought, and glanced at L to confirm that he thought so too. This made sense of course – prostitution itself was legal in the UK, but pimping was not.

"Of course. But, if someone in your position DID happen to have a manager, that manager would know the identity of all of their clients?"

"I suppose so," Jessie answered vaguely.

"Good. Give all the names of the people you told to your interviewer. Thank you for your time."

L severed the connection. "Jessie is a fool, but an innocent fool."

"I agree. So you reckon one of those people will lead us to the killer?"

"Almost certainly."

"If we get information from the pizza company on who was supposed to be delivering to that couple, then we'll be well on our way – a two-pronged investigation!"

"Yes. A good morning's work." L slid off the sofa onto his bare feet. "Let's eat lunch."

They wended their way down the corridors and stairs. Just as they crossed the hallway towards the corridor to the kitchen, both heard a familiar deep growling sound from out the front of Wammy's House. It was the purr of a well-loved vintage engine.

"Matt's back!" Rose exclaimed, and she went to open the front door, L just a few steps behind.

Sure enough the orangey-red Chevrolet had pulled up on the gravel drive, and Matt was climbing out, grinning, waving a hand replete with cigarette. Some industrial techno throbbed quietly from the car speakers, and the morning sunlight bounced off the windscreen, making it painfully mirror-like and bright.

"Hey honey's, I'm home!"

Rose moved forward, about to give him a huge thank you hug for making her mechanical feet, but then paused as she saw a flicker of movement in Matt's car, and the sound of the passenger door. The light bouncing off the windscreen had obscured the fact that there was another person in the car. _What the...?_

With a squeal, a tremendously excited Misa Amane rushed over to Rose and hugged her tightly, squeaking in very poor English: "It good to meet again you, Fern!"

Rose was too surprised to manage anything more than a mumbled acknowledgement, and was relieved when Misa let go to jump on L instead. L's face flushed with awkwardness and embarrassment, and Rose sent a gently mocking face over Misa's shoulder. He extricated himself quickly, and gave her an excessively courteous explanation (in Japanese) of where to go inside to find the bathroom and refreshments. _Oooh, I know that voice_ , Rose thought. _That excessively polite voice means only one thing – L is Pissed Off._

"Thank yoouuuu!" Misa trilled, and went into the building. As she left, L turned to Matt, hands in pockets, brow and jaw set hard.

"What on earth do you think you're doing, Matt?" he asked murderously quietly.

Matt's happy expression faltered. "What's the problem?"

"Do you not appreciate that bringing a total stranger here is almost the biggest breach of security you could have performed?"

"She's not a total stranger," Matt protested, "she's-"

"Yes, your girlfriend, who spends most of her time apart from you because she lives in a foreign country! Who knows who she really is!"

"L's right," Rose interjected. "She could be here on a criminal intelligence mission."

Matt shook his head adamantly. "No. Fucking trust me. Does Misa look capable of crime to you?"

"I must admit that I would not usually suspect one of her limited intelligence, but looks can be deceiving." L reeled back expertly as Matt tried to push his shoulder in annoyance.

"Hey, don't call her thick!" He stomped on his cigarette butt with a sigh. "Hey, shit man, I'm sorry, I should have asked you. But believe me, she knows nothing of who we really are. I told her I'm an inventor, you're a computer programmer L, and you're a journalist Rose."

"A journalist?" She began to protest, but then realised this would make sense of them talking about crimes.

"And for another thing, her English is rubbish. We could probably talk about cases right in front of her and she wouldn't realise what was going on. Besides, I thoroughly checked all her communications," Matt assured. "No suspicious emails, calls, texts, anything. Misa is just a model."

"Hmmm," L said dubiously. "I really don't like this."

"Neither do I," Rose agreed. "However... in all likelihood, Misa is nothing to be afraid of."

L pouted. "I know you're probably right." He scratched his head with indecision, rolled his eyes around the drive. "She can stay for a while," he said eventually. "On the condition that whilst she's in Wammy's House, you do not let her out of your sight for one minute, Matt. I don't care if that means you have to pretend to be a very clingy boyfriend – she is not to roam around this house alone."

Matt beamed. "Cheers man! She won't disappoint, I promise!"

Rose and L resumed their quest for lunch. It was after official mealtime, so the wide kitchen was empty. As she made a cheese and salad sandwich, Rose watched L out of the corner of her eye. He had paused in the middle of his lunch-making, punnet of raspberries still in his hand, as if he'd totally forgotten what he was doing, and just stared blankly at the wall. Rose watched for several seconds before gently enquiring his name.

"L...?"

As if startled by a loud noise, he dropped the punnet in shock at her utterance, and raspberries rolled all over the flagstone floor. With shaking hands L crouched down to pick them up, and Rose joined him, scooping raspberries back into their plastic container. Before he could stand up, she placed a hand on his knee to stop him, and searched his face intently. That deadness was still in his eyes.

"What's the matter?"

For a moment it looked like he was as fragile as a glass ball, ready to shatter into a million pieces at the slightest provocation, but immediately he pushed past her hand and stood up, out of sight and reach.

"There's nothing the matter," came L's distant, flat voice.

Rose stood up too. "Okay." _There's no point pressing him_. "Let's get back to work."

Once back in his wing L was normal again, scanning various news channels, websites, feeds. He groaned. "Unfortunately our ignorant, scare-mongering media have decided that David Carlton's murder may be a terrorist attack."

Rose nodded gravely. "And that means all reason and sense will go out of the window – the police will arrest everyone and anyone they can to prove to the public that they're in control, the government will heighten security and thus heighten fear and anxiety, half of the media will put a barely-hidden racist slant on the whole thing, blaming one foreign group or another, causing strained international relationships..."

"Precisely," L muttered. "What a dreadful inconvenience."

"What if it IS a terrorist attack?" Rose wondered aloud.

"I highly doubt it. Assassinations are rarely their style."

"True. Do you think our suspect will act again?"

L's brow furrowed. "That I do not know. I feel like his or her game isn't over yet, but they've already murdered the Prime Minister, where do you go from there? If that's their opening move, then I seriously don't want to consider what's coming next."

The 'R' came up on the screen again – Roger was still at the police station, and would only transfer duties to Matt the following day.

"We've got the pizza delivery boy who was supposed to be delivering that pizza. Harvey Jones, 24."

"Excellent, connect us up."

A bespectacled young man just a little younger than themselves sat nervously in the police interview room. Harvey's posture had somehow retained a lot of his teenage awkwardness well into his adulthood, and he glanced around shyly, twisting his hands in his lap. A crescent-shaped bruise curved around his eye-socket.

"Harvey Jones, please recount your story."

"I picked up my orders like normal at the shop. That was bout, 10 maybe." His voice was quiet, and intermittently low and high, wobbling up and down like a Theremin. "I had two for Edgware and one for Hendon, so I went Edgware first, coz it's closer. Then I was coming down Great North Way to Hendon, passed Allianz Park, and I see this figure sitting on the road like, right by the edge on the curb. She was wearing a big stupid hat and a flowery dress. So I slow my bike, stop a few metres down the road after her, and go check what's happened, tryin' to be all gentleman and all." Harvey paused.

"Go on."

"I went over, ask what's the matter love, she says I've tripped in me heels and hurt me ankle. An' I remember thinking, got a bit of a weird voice, an't she? Anyways, I say let's take a look at it then, see if we should call the ambulance. An' she says, yes, help me over to under that lamppost for a better look. So I help her up, and she's pretty tall for a lady, but I support her all proper like over to the streetlamp a bit further off the road." Harvey gulped. "An' then before I know it, she's stood up straight no problem at all, and knocked me clean into tomorrow. Only took one punch. Doctors say she drugged me on valium after that, and she musta, coz I didn't wake up till six the next morning, lying naked inside a loada bushes in Allianz Park, freezing me bollocks off, all possessions gone. Walked out into the open, and it took a while for anyone to help me – they thought I was just a drugged up idiot or mental homeless guy, and most ignored me." Harvey fell silent.

"Thank you, Harvey. Are you able to give more of a description of this woman?"

"As I said, she was quite tall. Fairly slim, but must've been goin' to the gym, coz she felt pretty strong. Dark blonde hair just passed her shoulders, I think. Maybe blue eyes? It was pretty dark." He shrugged in apology.

"Have you noticed anything unusual around your workplace lately?" Rose interjected, and was pleased to note that Harvey didn't react to the change in speaker – the voice distortion clearly worked well enough to disguise different voices. "For instance, any unusual visitors?"

Harvey thought for a moment. "Not really. But to be fair we've been recruiting these last couple of weeks, been having lots of interviews, so a fair few new people have been inside the place lately."

 _A hah_. Rose and L shared a look – this was their lead now.

"Do you have anything else we should know?"

The man shook his head. "No, I think that's it."

"In that case, thank you Harvey Jones. You have been most helpful."

The connection was severed.

"So," L said, his eyes bright, "our woman was able to enter the building in non-suspicious circumstances, meaning that she could-"

"-wangle a way to access/hack their computer system, in order to discover when an order was going to that block of flats in Hendon, and head them off," Rose finished.

"Mmm, precisely," L replied through a mouthful of sugar cube.

Rose stood up. "I'm going to go to that branch of the pizza company and check their records and CCTV."

"Wait." L hadn't looked up. "You will go to the Met first, and take an armed policeman with you."

"What?" Rose asked nonplussed. "You've never thought such measures were necessary before?!"

L's knuckles tightened around his knees. "And a wise man learns from his mistakes. One can never tell how dangerous a place may be – after all, you were nearly blown up two days ago. Who can say that this pizza company isn't actually involved in the crime, and will make an attempt on your life if you go there?"

Rose huffed. "I can take care of myself."

"On the contrary, you probably can't. For example, without the use of your legs for the last 9 months you won't have been able to train, so even in a physical fight you probably could not take care of yourself anymore."

Rose growled – _that touched a nerve._ Like lightening she sprung upon him, pinning him down on the sofa with one swift movement, his wrists pressed hard into the cushions. "My legs may be worse, but the rest of me is brutally strong! Don't you dare presume to know my capabilities as well as I do!"

L struggled against her pressure, but it would have taken every ounce of his effort to push her off, so he refrained. "I was hoping you still had fight in you," he replied evenly.

Rose growled again, and rolled sideways to sit on the sofa once more. "Damn your mind games – you just wanted to provoke me didn't you."

"Correct." L sat up and nursed his wrists. The tenderness there was a blessed echo of her presence – it had been such a relief to feel her skin again, even if it was just her hands around his wrists. _Does she want to be like we were before? Or is the opportunity gone forever?_ "I rest assured that you would still be formidable in a fight. However, my order still stands – please conduct no field-work without company."

"Then maybe YOU should come," she jousted, not really meaning it, expecting him to knock it down.

"If the situation merits it, I will," he said seriously.

Rose looked at him in surprise, and found his bottomless eyes waiting for hers, full of... something she could not name. It was a very complex look. "Really? Why? Doesn't L need to be hidden?"

"The protection of this version of L is no longer paramount," he said quietly. "I now trust that Near – with Matt as Watari – is capable of taking my place if the need arose. My imperative for self-preservation is now _only_ that – SELF preservation, not preservation of the institution of L itself. Which means, other things can now trump that imperative."

Rose nodded. "I understand." _Now that you're not the only person capable of protecting the world, you care less about protecting yourself. Hah – I used to think you were selfish. I grow more and more to release that you have only ever protected yourself in order to protect others – how wrong I was. I didn't think it was possible to fall for you more L, but each year, I truly love you more._

She reached out a hand, and placed it softly over his right hand that was resting on his knee, squeezing gently. She saw him look down at the hand on top of his as if he was confused at its existence, before he slowly moved his left hand over hers, and squeezed too.

They sat like that for perhaps a minute. However their repose was interrupted by a shiver, a deep tremor that ran through L's shoulders, and he shook off her hands. "Go on, go to the pizza company. Let's connect via earpieces so we can communicate."

Rose stood up, and winced slightly as her boots pressed against her chafed knees. _I'll get Matt to sort them tonight._ "Okay. I'll turn the earpiece on once I'm there."

 **(gap)**

Four hours later at about six pm, Rose was cross-referencing the pizza company's list of interviewees with their CCTV footage. This made it a lot quicker than just trawling through the entirety of the video data. She'd worked her way back through about seven now.

And there the woman was, six days ago, Wednesday, sitting at a desk across from one of the branch managers. Rose cursed the wide-brimmed hat, cursed the fact that nearly all CCTV camera's are position high up, making her face impossible to see. As she watched, the course of the conversation between the woman and the branch manager caused him to get up and leave the room. Unattended, the woman hurried round to his side of the desk, slipped a USB into his computer, and hurriedly copied something from the USB to it. The USB was out and woman back in her seat just as the branch manager returned with a couple of folders.

"I've got her Ryuzaki," Rose said, and heard his voice come quietly through the earpiece. It was almost like he was speaking from inside her mind, and it sent a curious thrill through her body.

"Good. Her name?"

"Melanie Wright."

"Face?"

"Obscured."

"No matter. We've enough to work with."

Rose marvelled at the fact Melanie Wright had the audacity to dress in exactly the same clothes in all of the scenarios they'd found her in. _Surely that's a schoolgirl error, way below a criminal of her nuance? Or is it deliberate? WHY would it be deliberate?_ _She must have incredible surety that she will not be found._ Rose watched as Melanie bid the branch manager goodbye, turning to (Rose assumed) give him a smile over her shoulder as she left. Something about the way she exited through that door made a click of recognition in Rose's mind. It had been oddly... familiar. She took the footage back, replayed it, but could not place why Melanie Wright's body language could be at all familiar. _Perhaps she's someone I know from my criminal past. Though, I'm probably imagining it._

Rose left the pizza company branch, and soon Matt and Misa – ostensibly on a 'shopping trip' – came to pick her up. Misa leant over her seat to show Rose in the back her purchases, and Rose responded in Japanese for a while.

"Hey Fern, speak in English, won't you? So I can try and learn some? That would be so totally awesome!"

Rose obliged, and shortly afterwards, during much more stilted interaction with Misa, L came through on the earpiece.

"Melanie Wright caught a plane to New York from Heathrow at 13:20 Sunday lunchtime – just a few hours after she left the block of flats."

Rose groaned. "Out of the country already? That was quick."

"I've already contacted the FBI, they're looking for her. We're going to New York as soon as you're back."

"What about Matt's... honourable guest?" Rose said carefully, figuring Misa wouldn't know those words yet and know she was talking about her.

"I don't know. She can't stay at Wammy's – if Matt refuses to send her home, them I suppose she comes with us. As long as she is never allowed in our working suite, then I can't see how she'd learn of anything she shouldn't."

"Okay. See you in a couple of hours."

Once back at Wammy's House, Misa excused herself and went to the bathroom. Perching on the toilet seat she unlocked her phone, and searched a username on WhatsApp that she'd held very carefully in her mind for several weeks. She giggled with girlish affection as she typed it in, and typed – in perfect English – her message.

 _They know where you are my love, better be quick! I can't wait to be in your gorgeous arms again. Yours, forever and always, Misa._

\- Thanks for reading! I'm away again for ages now, in Scotland for two weeks then doing a permaculture course for two weeks – there's a chance some writing might get done in that, but it's slim =[ have a great month.


	48. Chapter 48: The President

_Hello readers, I do apologise for having been away so long. It's back in swing, there'll be two or three chapters going up this week. I hope you enjoy!_

Misa and Matt were asleep, curled up – horribly uncomfortably it looked to Rose – on a single airplane seat. The plane thrummed steadily through the night air. _I have to talk to him. I mean, REALLY talk_. _I have to tell him that I want us to be together again, that to me we were never truly separated, he was always in my heart, that I made a mistake while he was gone, but it's all in the past. I might not get another chance, not with those two around._

"L?"

"Yes?" He responded impassively.

But then she faltered, her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, and she couldn't continue. Her silence made him look up from staring out of the window, and their gaze met. It hung there for several seconds.

"Nothing," she said lamely, cursing herself for being too weak, too weak to ask him what was wrong with him, too weak to tell him what had happened for her. _It feels like each of us is in a reinforced glass bubble, and as hard as we scream at each other we cannot be heard, and as hard as we bang on the glass we cannot break through. The worst bit is I know I made this cage myself._ _Did he make his?_ Suddenly the plane felt very fragile, just a tin can wobbling through space, and she gripped her seat in fear of the huge emptiness below her.

L, inscrutable, didn't reply. He turned back to the window and Rose bit her lip in shame and frustration.

It was a relief when the plane touched down six hours later and they were forced to burst back into action. Together the four journeyed in a taxi to the hotel Matt had booked. When they arrived the sleepy, good-natured Matt led a sleepy, grumpy Misa to their neighbouring suite and put her to bed, before returning to L and Roses suite. The equipment was set up at lightning speed.

"So, looking at the reports from the NYPD, we have footage of Melanie Wright leaving the airport, but once in town she vanishes into some very crowded streets and virtually disappears. From that point on there have been no sightings for the entire two and a half days she's been here," L brooded, pouting.

"Must've gone underground," Rose concluded.

"Indeed."

"And on the presidential front," Matt chipped in, "he and his security team are on high-alert, just in case Melanie's next move is to target him." They'd discussed this possibility in the car to the airport.

"Good. Do we have his timetable?"

"Yes."

Rose brought up the tab, and L perused it with swift flicks of his eyes. "These are the weak points," he assessed. "Centrally the times when he's out in public, but also in busier buildings like the reception he will be attending in the evening."

"Though we must keep our feelers out for any other unusual activity, we cannot be sure that this is Melanie's plan," Rose pointed out.

"I know, but..." L's brow furrowed. "There's a feeling inside me that tells me we're on the right track here."

"I thought we were supposed to trust evidence not feelings," Rose teased.

"What of when evidence and feelings contradict, and yet one is extremely sure that the feelings are correct and the concrete evidence, what has actually happened, was not a true thing at all?"

"I suppose it depends on the case, but usually as a detective one must-"

"-What I'm trying to say is that some feelings are true," L cut across quietly, "even if the potential evidence would seem to deny them." And without warning he looked at her with such intensity, juxtaposing entirely his otherwise calm demeanour, that Rose had to catch her breath with surprise. _What's he talking about here? I sense this is no longer about being a detective... what's he trying to say?_ A weird silence descended.

"Hmmhmmm..." Matt cleared his throat with a theatrical pointed stare. "Aaannnnyyways, back to the task at hand, shall we?"

"Of course." L's black eyes were blank slates once again, and Rose pulled her own mask back into place. They ran through as many possibilities for Melanie's movements as they could think of for the next couple of hours, before Matt, catching himself nodding off, headed for bed. It was getting light.

 _Shit, I've just realised that Matt's booked me and L into the same suite. I suppose it wouldn't occur for him to do otherwise, it was what it was like before. What happens now?_

"I figure it's better if we sleep in shifts. It's better if we avoid the possibility of anything happening and us not waking up to deal with it."

 _Once again, he reads my thoughts._ "Okay," Rose agreed, standing up, "I'll sleep first. Wake me in three hours max."

"Okay."

 **(gap)**

"Fern." The feeling of a cool hand on her cheek and the sound of her current name drew Rose out of her torpor. She opened her eyes suddenly to see L several paces away. _Must've imagined the hand._

"Has anything happened yet?"

"All quiet on the western front."

"I think that's the first cultural reference I've heard you make," she croaked sleepily.

"Even detectives should be cultured. Nay, especially detectives."

"I suppose." Yawning, Rose pulled herself out of bed. L almost immediately took her place, curling up fully clothed beneath the sheets.

The smell of her on the sheets made L's breathing quicken involuntarily, and he turned his head further into the pillow, hiding his breathing but accidentally increasing the delightful scent. _It's so warm,_ he thought. _Perhaps here I can sleep and sleep forever..._

Rose sorted her hair in the mirror, and was about to leave the bedroom when she saw a small silver tray on the sideboard with a steaming cup of green tea, a slice of toast, and a generous fruit salad. _Breakfast!_

"L, thank you!"

But if he heard her there was no reply, and so Rose took her meal, smiling, into the main room.

A few hours later the clock ticked passed midday and they received a call from the head of the president's security.

"Okay we're on the move towards his lunch destination. Unmarked car, bulletproof glass, fully checked, only his wife and most trusted driver inside. Should be fine."

L placed a final shortbread onto his latticed tower. It was almost a metre tall, and teetered slightly to the right. _The 'leaning tower of shortbread',_ Rose thought, and then scolded herself for finding such a lame thing amusing.

"Okay. Go ahead. Keep your wits about you, all of you."

"Right you are."

Ten minutes later the president, his wife and driver were in the car and heading across Manhattan. Aerial footage from one of the helicopters shadowing the car streamed on the computer. Rose watched it idly. It didn't make for very entertaining viewing.

Fifteen minutes later the car stopped at some temporary traffic lights for some road works. The helicopter overshot for a few seconds, before doubling back a bit to get the car into sight. The lights seemed to stay red for a very long time. Rose yawned.

Amber.

Green.

As the car crossed the cables connecting the two opposing sets of lights there was a huge flash, boom and shudder as the presidents car was blown into tiny pieces. Huge plumes of smoke billowed over the street, carrying bits of twisted burning metal, broken glass, flaming interior and acrid melting body.

"No!" L screamed thunderously.

"Shit!" Rose exclaimed.

"Fuck!" Matt chorused.

L's hand, like the hand of God destroying a failed creation, crushed down upon the shortbread tower, making floury crumbs of biscuit and sugar scatter everywhere. "I thought they checked the roads," he intoned sharply.

"So did I!" Rose and Matt said at once.

L brushed the flour off his hands. "This cannot stand. Search the area. She must have been watching, search the area!"

In the neighbouring suite Misa lay on her front on the double bed, kicking her legs slowly through the air, clutching her phone to her ear. The phone, attached wirelessly to a bug she'd secured in Matt's goggles, repeated the detective's words to her. As soon as she heard them Misa took the phone into both hands and began furiously typing, her lacquered nails clacking slightly on the screen.

 _Get out fast they're on the hunt! When can I see you pleeeaaasssee let me see you xxxxxxxxxxx_

She rolled around on the bed waiting impatiently for a reply. Just as she sparked a cigarette her phone lit up and she wriggled with delight.

 _On it. You can see me today, no later. Go to Manhattan Mall, someone will lead you to me._

Misa allowed herself a girlish whoop, and hugged the phone to her chest.

 **(gap)**

An hour later and a million communications with the NYPD later, L rose fluidly to his feet. Rose sent him a questioning look.

"This is useless. Do you trust the eyes of these policemen?"

"Well... not entirely," Rose admitted.

"Me neither. If we're going to discover anything useful we must go there ourselves."

Rose raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure it's worth that? Me and Matt can just-"

"No," he cut across, "this woman will not best us because I was too afraid to go to the scene myself."

"You really do hate to lose, don't you."

"I do." L stated simply. And then the corners of his mouth twitched, his eyes creased, and his voice took on a humorous note that Rose hadn't heard since he'd returned from Australia.

"Do you know what this means Fern?"

"Urh... No." She was genuinely at a loss.

"This means you need to dress me up."

The answer was so obvious and yet so unexpected that Rose burst out laughing. When she'd regained her composure, she asked:

"But in what? You don't have any other clothes, and we certainly don't have time to go shopping."

"Before we left I ordered a few things to arrive here today. They arrived whilst you were asleep – in the dressing room you'll find several outfits. Please use your discerning judgement to decide what would look most natural, I'm afraid I'm a little out of my depth."

Rose went through the bedroom to the dressing room, and sure enough there hung several outfits wrapped in protective plastic. Unwrapping them she discovered two high-quality suits, one black and one dark grey, a couple of shirts, t shirts, ties, jeans and jumpers. She pulled out a smart pair of grey jeans, blue t-shirt, and a sensible looking maroon sweater. Casting her eyes around, Rose found a tier of three shoe boxes, and pulled out some grey casual shoes.

"Try these!" she called, and brought them out into the bedroom. Rose sat on the edge of the bed and politely averted her eyes. Well, she'd intended to, but the mirror on the wall reflected the pale, sinuous back of him as the long sleeved white t-shirt came off, shoulder blades angular, casting acute shadows across his skin. Her eyes lingered involuntarily. She remembered what that back had felt like under her palms as she lay beneath him – warm, smooth, solid – and felt a flush run through her. After an interminable minute he was done.

"What do you think?"

Rose turned and snorted. "You look ridiculous. You look exactly like you're trying to play a character. No, that won't do."

Back in the dressing room Rose's hands wandered from item to item, trying to visualise what they'd look like. Before she'd assumed that a suit would look out of place, but perhaps... _perhaps it might work._ She picked up the black suit, pale shirt, deep forest-green tie, and black formal shoes.

"Try these."

It was no accident that she watched in the mirror this time. She watched as pale bare skin donned a dark suit of armour.

"Fern."

"Yes?" she turned round.

L shifted uncomfortably for a second, scratching his head. "I may need some help." He held out the green strip of silk tie.

Rose grinned. "Sure." And she did so, painfully conscious of the musky, sweet smell emanating from him, painfully conscious of the nearness of him, painfully aware (despite her averted eyes) of his eyes boring into her face. Taking care to keep avoiding his gaze she finished the tie and swept his hair off his face, teasing out some of the tangles. "There."

She stood back, examined him, and swayed slightly in dizziness. _What have we just created?_ Rose pondered wordlessly. For in front of her was a devastating being. A being that emanated power and authority, a being with strong shoulders and a purposeful stance, a being with cheekbones that could cut glass, a deliberating mouth that could make or break someone's fortune, a being with eyes that could summon any soul to its service. He was a vampire, or a dark angel, or something even more unknown and more dangerous. With a jolt, Rose realised he looked like Light. _This is what Light wished to be. They could have been the best of friends. Soul-brothers._ And then: _We are the cloaks that we wear._

However the being spoke with L's usual monotone voice, hesitant and low, and the spell was lessened somewhat. "Does it look acceptable?"

Rose made a noise somewhere between a hiccup, cough and laugh. "It looks... great. Just great. Don't go eating any souls, now."

L didn't seem to get the joke.

Half an hour later Matt drew up at the scene of the president's assassination. The street had been cordoned off and was being marshalled by a thick line of armed police and even some of the army, whilst a huge crowd of journalists and public jostled to get a glimpse between them.

"There's no fuckin' way I can park here man, I'll just drop you guys off and man the decks at base."

"Okay, keep in contact."

Matt pulled off in the rented car, and L and Rose moved towards the crowd.

"Out of the way," rang L's most authoritative voice, and on turning to see his imposing figure the jabbering people melted to the sides like the parting of the red sea. They approached the barrier of policemen and flashed their identity cards.

"Fern Williams and Ryuzaki Idukame, Commissioner Jonson sent us," Rose explained, used her best weary professional (and American) voice. One of the policemen's eyes narrowed.

"We weren't informed anyone else was coming down."

"Well, surprise surprise, he's actually trying to keep operations under wraps – the more people that know what's going on, the more we're in danger. Just let us through. Feel free to call Jonson later if it bothers you that much."

Her bored, superior tone convinced him, and he stood aside with a quick salute. "Yes ma'am."

They moved through the now empty street, and L gave her a quick nod of approval. "Your acting is still flawless. I was watching your face for any part of the real you, but it was all gone."

Rose smiled proudly. "That's one aspect I've always bested you in."

"You're not wrong. Usually this would irritate me, but if you hadn't been better than me... well, I would have thrown you in prison long before we had the chance to... know each other."

"Also true," Rose agreed wryly, wondering briefly what he'd been about to say.

They combed the outside for a while but there was nothing of merit. L stopped and stared up at the tall rows of buildings either side. He stroked his lip. "What will tell us where our suspect was hiding?" L mused. And then he paused all motion. "Tell me Fern, when was the president assassinated?"

"Exactly 12:30."

"Exactly," he intoned smoothly, "the same time as Kennedy was murdered by Lee Harvey Oswald. And where was Kennedy shot from? The sixth floor. Do you remember how Prime Minister Carlton's death was so intimately linked with Billingham's?"

"Yes, it's worth a go." Rose scanned the buildings quickly. "There's only five floors on the right hand side."

"Then let's try the left."

The sixth floor, depending on which building it was in, varied between well-to-do flats and offices. With a couple of commands L had a section of the policemen on the street to keep a good guard around the sixth floor.

"The offices will have considerably higher security, therefore it is my opinion that there is only a thirty percent chance Melanie will have found her way into one. We should look in the flats first."

Slowly he and Rose began to comb each one. A dull blanket of darkness was falling as they reached the fourth flat. No one answered their knock.

"Do you have a lock-picking device?"

"Yes I brought it," Rose replied, and took the steel instrument out of her pocket.

Door open, they stepped into the dark flat and flicked on the lights. The main living room was done up in a faux Victorian-aristocrat style with chintz armchairs and wallpaper, leather chesterfield sofas, a fake Persian rug, and several decorative vases on tables and chests of drawers.

L padded forward and Rose followed, noticing that now they were out of sight of the policemen his shoulders had dropped into a hunch again. He paused.

"Tell me Fern, if you owned a flat full of expensive things in a busy city, would you leave the window open when you went out?"

"No."

"Then I suspect our host is, in fact, in," L said, walking to the curtains and pulling them apart further revealing the wide-open window. He glanced through it. "Excellent view of the traffic lights. Proceed with caution."

They examined the granite and chrome kitchen, the second bedroom, and gleaming black-tiled bathroom. Nothing. As L opened the door to the master bedroom Rose heard an all too familiar click. L heard it too.

"Run!" He cried, and turned to leave, but to his consternation Rose had put her hand on his chest to stop him, and kicked open the door.

"No," she shouted back firmly once she'd seen the homemade bomb lying on the floor, "it's the same as the last one, we can disarm it in time, I swear! I need your help - come here."

"You better be right," L hissed quietly as he kneeled on the floor next to her. Rose was aware that was the closest he could come to saying that he was very, very scared.

"Hold these," she instructed, handing him a three wires. "I think if it all comes apart at once, it will disable. Only if one part is loosened first will it prematurely detonate."

She was then busy unscrewing things with a screwdriver attached to the lock-picker, her fingers fumbling with the fear and rush of it. _Come on come on come on._ The plastic cover pried off and she examined the insides quickly. _Not much time._

"There," L pointed, "loosen that joint, middle right."

"Yes." Rose did so, and breathed deeply as nothing seemed to go wrong. All the wires were available now. "Okay are you ready? Pull at exactly the same time. Three, two, one, GO!"

They both yanked as hard as they could, and crouched, eyes shut, tensed against the expected blows. But it never came. Rose opened her eyes, and saw L do the same.

"Aaah." Her breath of relief came as a shuddering sigh, after which she promptly burst out laughing. "Thank the fucking lord!"

L was grinning too, hugging his knees. "Fern Williams you have just not only saved our lives, but provided us with the perfect piece of evidence!" And then without warning he leaned forward and kissed her warmly on the cheek. Rose felt a deep blush permeate her face.

"You're welcome." She gazed around in embarrassment, and pitied herself for being so girlish over it all. _Get over it, you're not a fucking adolescent._ Her eyes caught the red writing daubed on the back wall. "Look!"

L turned, and they both keenly examined the message.

" _Stupid fat-cats_

 _We don't need you!_

 _Stupid fat-cats_

 _We never fucking will!"_

 _M._

"M for Melanie I suppose," L muttered.

"We should find out where the quote comes from, it could help."

"Indeed it could. As could the type of bomb, the ingredients used, the type of paint on the wall, any traces left in this flat..." L smirked. "We'll track her down now without the week." He pulled a phone out of his pocket with fore-finger and thumb, and dialled Commissioner Jonson. "Send your forensics into flat three, number 8, will ya? We got some great finds."

Rose suppressed a derisive snort: the higher-pitch American voice he'd put on had sounded bizarrely incongruous. As they turned to leave, a thud made them stop in their tracks. The thud came again. And then they heard a weak cry coming from the heavy wooden linen box at the end of the bed.

Bounding to it, L flung open the lid. Inside was a sweating elderly man tied up with strips of sheet, a glazed look of terror on his face.

"Help!" the man croaked. "They drugged me, I didn't know what was happening, oh god I thought I was going to die!"

"Who did?" L queried imperiously.

The man's eyes darted awkwardly around the room, and he mumbled and bluffed some incomprehensible words. L strode forward, took the man's sweaty face in his hands, and shook it gently.

"Tell me," he commanded.

"Don't judge me, please!" the man pleaded piteously. "But I have a thing for... for lady-boys. I'd never hired this one before, I had no idea this would happen! This is god punishing me for my sins isn't it," he wailed, and started sobbing wetly.

L let go of him wordlessly, physically repulsed by the man. Rose's mind was racing.

"Does this mean that-"

"-Melanie Wright may in fact be a male," L cut in, answering the question he knew was on her lips. "What a curious turn of events."

 _Thanks for reading, please do review if you have any comments_


	49. The Puzzle (Revenge Pride Jealousy)

_I thought about breaking this chapter into two, but in the end decided it worked better as a whole, so it's longer than usual! Shit's goin down in this, it's all falling together/apart I'm not sure which!_

The lift opened onto their floor of the hotel, and Rose stepped out of it into the too-brightly lit corridor. It only took a weary few seconds to reach the suite, and she plodded in tiredly, sinking onto a sofa.

"Supper," she said, inclining her head towards to carrier bag of food she'd got from the 24 hour shop.

"Excellent."

L was back in the omnipresent white, long-sleeved top and blue jeans. It comforted Rose. The suited L had been more than she'd bargained for – it had shown her what he could have become if he'd truly desired power. She passed him a bunch of grapes, which he took without turning round, popping two grapes immediately into his mouth. They'd been talking it all through for hours now, as bits of information slowly bled in from forensics. Fingerprints had been recovered, but no matches. The type of paint had been identified, but not yet where it came from. The man they'd found in the linen box was recovering in order to be questioned in the morning.

A most puzzling detail was the quote. Despite comprehensive research and deliberation, none of the three could identify a source.

"It was definitely a quote though, wasn't it?" Rose double-checked from the sofa. "It had speech marks?"

"Yes it had speech marks," L confirmed, and popped another pair of grapes into his mouth. "Though perhaps they were merely emphasising the fact that they were saying it to us."

"Hmmm."

The neutral pronoun 'they' had replaced 'Melanie' or 'she'. None could make up their minds on the gender of the suspect now.

"The problem is," Matt said unusually thoughtfully through a cloud of smoke, "that we dunno if we can trust that guy's witness. If they never actually got to the point of 'doing it' then he won't have a clue what was really underneath."

"Yes. We'll have to wait until tomorrow to answer that question."

Rose piled mayonnaise, cheese and salad between two slices of bread, and wolfed it down hungrily. Food had been slightly saw-dusty again recently, but she was aware that she needed the nourishment. Finished, she reclined again, and stared at the ceiling. Something was bugging her. _It feels like all of the pieces of the puzzle are laid out before me, but for some reason my eyes aren't working well enough to fit them all together. There are faint memories dangling at the edges of my brain just waiting to be remembered, I know it! And when they do..._

"You feel it too?" Came L's soft probing voice.

Rose looked down. "Feel what?"

"That feeling that the answer is right there under our noses. And we're being too blind to see it."

Rose nodded seriously. "That's exactly what I feel."

L hmmphed. "That's because the answer IS right before our noses! Just one more piece of the puzzle, that will be all we need. Just a nudge."

There was a knock and a squeal at the door.

"Don't let her in Matt," L reminded.

"I won't dude, chill out." Matt stood up and ambled to the door.

"Maaaaaaatt!" They heard as Matt stepped swiftly out of the suite, shutting the door behind him.

There ensued a silence in the wake of his absence, but not an unpleasant silence. Rose felt her heart and mind expand through the air towards L, and unlike on the plane the night before, she no longer felt the glass bubbles around them. _Maybe this is the time_.

"L, I-"

"What I-"

Both started speaking at once, and stopped immediately. L cleared his throat. He hadn't looked round at her yet, and she wished she could have the opportunity to try and read his expression.

"Go on."

Rose acquiesced. "Well, the thing is, I-"

And then the gothic letter R appeared on the screen, and they turned to it expectantly.

"L, we've had various bits of news since you've been gone. I'll run you through them. First, we took the list of 'colleagues' Jessie Goulding said she'd told about David Carlton, and though she refused to name her 'manager' it wasn't hard to locate him with the list of prostitutes she gave. He's a man named Ernie Campbell, runs a few nightclubs in London and Birmingham to cover his dodgier dealings, we're in the process of tracking-"

Whatever Roger said next was never heard by Rose, because at the mention of Ernie Campbell her brain began to tick, slowly at first, then faster and faster. What started as a gentle trickle of understanding began to swell into a raging torrent of realisation, bursting through her walls of ignorance. Her perception of the room faded completely away as the pieces of the puzzle all started to slot together.

 _Campbell, Ernie Campbell, who used to work for The Group... Campbell who runs that club I went to just a few nights ago, where I met... Mello. Campbell knew him as M. M.! Fuck!_

... _"I've got some great plans, excuse me not sharing them with you"_... _"anarchy in the UK!"..._ Her drunken memory of Mello words returned.

As did her memory of the words of Harvey Jones, the pizza boy... " _got a bit of weird voice, ain't she? ...pretty tall for a lady... knocked me clean into tomorrow... dark blonde hair... maybe blue eyes? It was pretty dark."_

Next to return were Near's words, spoken casually around the Christmas dinner table at Wammy's House. _"...Mello was incredibly envious that I had beaten him to making good explosives – we had a bit of an arms race after that... the garden wasn't the same for years"..._

She remembered him standing there leaning against her (his) door, hip jutting out with a feminine arrogance. She remembered how Matt had lamented his best friend's fury over him working with L, how full of hatred Mello had become. She remembered his Cheshire-cat grin after they'd slept together, as if he'd won some kind of game. _Of course. It WAS a game. It still is._ _Fuck, I've been an idiot._

 _I must confirm this._ Shaking herself back into the room she leapt towards L and the computer where the letter R still stared unseeingly into the hotel.

"Roger get me Near on video link! It's urgent, wake him if you must!"

L turned to her sharply. "What is it? What have you thought of?"

Rose didn't reply, immediately realising that sharing her revelation would mean revealing what had happened just a few days ago. _This is not how I wanted to tell him._ "I'll explain once we've spoken to Near," she replied stiffly.

There then passed a tense five minutes whilst Roger fetched the white-blond boy. Rose paced over to the windows, pulled back the curtain and pretended to watch the streets below whilst her mind frantically went over the details, trying to find a good reason why it couldn't be true. But the more she went over it the surer she got. Blessedly, L did not try to question her again.

The letter R flipped to an image of Roger's study and Near appeared, ghostlike against the dark panelling of the room. Rose turned their camera on. Glancing sideways she found L's bottomless gaze lancing her sharply. There was a disturbing flicker of understanding there already. _Of course. Just by my need to talk to Near he's probably already worked out three of the most likely scenarios – and one is probably horribly close to the truth._

"What do you want?" Near asked, in words that would've sounded rude in any other voice but his.

Rose held up bits of the homemade bomb. All tests on it at forensics had been taken and sent off for studying, so Matt had picked it up in order for them to study it themselves. "Don't say anything until you've examined every part of this. Once you have, tell me anything you think is relevant."

She held up each part of the bomb in turn. Occasionally Near would ask her to turn a part round, or open a section up for further inspection. A few minutes later he nodded.

"I'm finished," he announced, and twirled a lock of starlight hair thoughtfully. "First of all, they are all common ingredients, easily garnered by the average person. What makes this interesting is the design: there are a few textbook designs for homemade bombs, and usually your average criminal with a penchant for explosives will follow these to the letter, in fear of something going horribly wrong if they don't. But _this_ one... it's complex and original, well thought out. And in terms of aesthetics... it isn't like the ones I used to make. I always liked arranging the components vertically. No, here they're horizontally laid out, much more like the bombs Mello used to design. In fact this bomb is _remarkably_ similar to his."

"So," Near continued, "in answer to your unspoken question Fern, yes: I believe Mello might be the culprit of these assassinations. I had the thought a few days ago, but I had no evidence to back it up. I'm very curious as to how _you_ came to that conclusion, Fern."

"Yes," L agreed, "very curious indeed." His steely gaze was making Rose nervous.

Matt returned to the suite loudly banging the door and they both jumped. His eyes roamed the bomb and the screen. "What have I missed?"

"Not much," L answered, "Fern was just about to explain how she has worked out the probable identity of the suspect."

"No, who?"

"Mello."

"Mel-?" Matt strangled, and after a searching glance to check they were serious, sat down heavily on the sofa, pulling out two cigarettes from his pocket and lighting them instantly. "Go on then, hit me," he croaked through a couple of puffs.

Rose cleared her throat, and tried not to look at either of her companions, nor the two on the screen. _I really did not imagine having to do this with such a big audience._ The four men were waiting expectantly. _I'll start at the beginning_.

"It was in... September perhaps? Or October, I can't quite remember. Anyway, as you know I was staying in Mello's vacated room. One night he came back to Wammy's House – he was confused to find me there, I can tell you."

"Fern why didn't you tell us?" Roger asked, offended. "That's a huge breach of security that no one noticed, that's something I should know about!"

Rose shrugged guiltily. "He asked me not to tell anyone. And it didn't seem like there was any reason to – all he did was get a photo and leave."

"A photo?" L asked, "What photo?"

"Just a picture of some rocker guy with long hair and an anarchy t-shirt. Didn't seem that remarkable to me."

Roger cleared his throat. "That'd probably be his father."

"His father?" Rose repeated, surprised.

"Yes, his father was a member of a Russian/British punk-metal band. He was called Andrei Keehl. Died under suspicious circumstances – it was never proved, but it's thought that he was bumped off by the Russian government for inciting revolutionary behaviour."

L's countenance darkened. "A.K. – the other initials fit. Carry on, Fern."

"So then I remembered what you said at Christmas, Near – about you blowing up the turkey, and you and Mello competing to make the best explosives. And I remembered the pizza boy saying how Melanie was tall with shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes."

"Aaah." Roger nodded.

Matt had sucked both cigarettes dry. His jaw was clenched, shoulders tense, eyes shut behind the goggles.

"But you knew all of these things in England," L observed after a moment's silence. "What made the penny drop now?"

 _There's really no avoiding it is there. Oh well, here goes._ "At the weekend, when Matt's boots arrived in the post, I had to get out of Wammy's House, to remember what it was like to just walk about on my own. So I went to London, walked around all day. Then I went to a club – a place that I knew about because the affiliates of The Group used to work from there. And, it's run by – guess who – Ernie Campbell. Excellent music," she added, without really knowing why she did so. Rose proceeded to explain the evening: the drug dealers who'd bothered her, the appearance of 'M', the drinking of whiskey, his crowing words.

Roger frowned. "But you were there to teach lessons on Saturday morning, if you were in that club until late how on earth did you get back to Winchester?"

"Mello drove me on the motorbike. And well... he followed me in saying he needed to get a few things that he wanted. And we well... you know." Rose continued addressing the wall, dreading looking at anybody's face. She heard Matt gasp as he took her gist.

"I was very drunk," she explained uselessly, even though no one had questioned her, feeling like there were a million ants crawling around inside her stomach. "And I was inebriated on my new-found freedom. I was feeling reckless. And he... well... I suppose he was trying to win the game in every way." _I feel empty_. She risked a flick of the eyes towards L. _Completely unreadable._

Matt had pushed his goggles back on his head, sat forward, and was gaping at her. "But I thought," he looked between his two friends, nonplussed, "I thought that you guys were-"

"There's plenty of things you think Matt, without them being true," L said, uncharacteristically harshly. "As a matter of fact we parted after her injury, and Ro... Fern was free to do as she pleased. As was I. On my part, I slept with Wedy in Australia, so it's no big deal," L explained casually.

This time Rose's and Matt's jaws both dropped open. _What? WHAT?_

"Whaa- how did that happen?" She spluttered.

L shifted his toes around and stared up to the right at the distant window. "Would you like to know how it happened the first, second, or third time, or all three?"

"Whaat?" Rose cried incredulously. She hadn't felt jealousy in a long time, but now it was coursing through her veins like boiling lead, and she leapt to her feet, seeing red. _I have no right to be jealous, no right at all, but god I could murder someone right now! Three times? Three? That's as many as us! No no no no I cannot accept this._

"Yes," L responded matter-of-factly. "So really Matt, don't be shocked at Rose's behaviour. If anything you should feel bad for her – it is much worse to have been at the receiving end of a revenge-fuck than a genuine, is misguided, affection."

Rose roared in anger. "Fuck you! I know you hate to lose but are you trying to win even in this? Fuck you! Are you TRYING to make me feel as shit and as angry as possible? "

"You're doing that all by yourself," he said, infuriatingly calmly, and Rose (to the warning cries of Roger and Near on the computer) leapt towards him, wishing at that moment to knock all the life out the skinny creature crouched on the chair before her. But Matt dived in the way, and pushed her back forcefully.

"Stop it, both of you, you fucking idiots! L stop winding her up coz you're angry, and Fern just stop being so angry! We've got more important things to deal with."

Rose, breathing heavily, slumped onto the sofa, and rubbed her face with her hands. When she opened her eyes, Matt's jaw was firmly clenched and his face had paled and turned grim.

"What you two have just said has made me realise a horrible possibility, that you might've been realising too if you weren't so caught up in your own fucking shit. So Mello's trying to win the game in every possible way, is he? And that includes a revenge-fuck?"

Rose winced.

"That means that... Misa's appearance cannot be ignored," Matt continued, his voice full of regret. "It can't be a coincidence that she messaged me so soon after my dreadful phone-call with Mello."

L's eyes widened. "Get to the suite next door!"

All three of them jumped up and raced out of the room.

Left hanging on the screen, Roger and Near looked at each other, bemused. "Let's leave them to it I think, lad," Roger said gruffly, and switched off the connection.

Matt reached the door to the neighbouring suite first, and swung it open. Misa was no longer there. Some of her possessions were still strewn about the room, but a quick check revealed that her bag, shoes, coat and valuables were all gone. Matt, howling in anger and distress, picked up a small bedside table and hurled it at the mirror on the opposite wall. The table wrenched in two on the impact, whilst the mirror exploded musically into a thousand shimmering, glimmering shards of deadly beauty.

The aftermath of the sound was a huge expanse of silence, punctuated only by the sound of Matt's barely-controlled sobbing, as he pressed his face into the sheets on the bed, scrunching the white material in his hands.

Rose felt wired and drained all at once. Her emotions weren't making any sense to her. "I'm going for a walk," she said eventually, and picked her way out of the sparkling room. Neither of them responded.

 **(gap)**

The sky was changing colour again. For the previous half an hour it had being slowly progressing from ebony black, through deepest grey, to wolf-grey, to silver-grey. Now the Eastern edges of the rounder clouds were being gilded in gold and orange and soft pink, whilst in the middle the thicker blanket of flat cloud was parting to reveal a cleft of sky of the palest baby-blue. The movement of the clouds was accompanied by a slightly faster breeze – the light, fresh breeze of a new day.

Rose shivered as a gust of the spritely wind passed over her and hushed through the bare-branched trees. She'd been lying on her back staring at the sky for a very long time. After buying a bottle of expensive red wine her feet had carried her hastily up and down unseen streets for over an hour, until tiredly they brought her to Central Park. There Rose had lain herself down on the wide stone balustrade edging a bridge, and had not moved a muscle since except to tilt her head to drink the wine. The wine had been gone for some time now, and the empty bottle rested somewhere by her feet. Cold was seeping into her bones from the stone and her body was stiff and aching from it, but Rose didn't mind that much. She felt sullied, hurt, alone and confused, and the cold was somewhat distracting, as if some of that wrongness was being pulled away into the unconcerned rock. _Is there anyone I can trust? Can I even trust myself? Or are we all too caught up in our own dramas to mind the needs of others, or even understand our own needs? Can anyone rely on anybody, or when the chips are down, are we all alone?_

A morning jogger, the first, bounced past her resting place. Distantly Rose was aware of the increase in traffic noise several hundred metres away as the city grumbled back into full speed. _Can't stay forever._

"Rose."

Rose nearly jumped out her skin, and she whipped up into sitting. "Fucking Jesus, don't do that!" She cursed, seeing L, who had managed to approach entirely silently since his feet were still bare. His face was, of course, not a great display of expression, but from what Rose could tell from the angle of his shoulders, the awkward shuffling of his hands in his pocket, and his slightly twisted lips, L was both wary and contrite. _I refuse to apologise first._

There was a tense silence.

L's eyes roamed from side to side. "I... I suppose I'm sorry."

Rose laughed bitterly. "You should be! You didn't have to be so harsh about it, did you." And then, greatly to her shame, Rose felt a rush of hot tears welling up in her eyes. _Oh god, I'm not about to start crying am I?_ _I feel pathetic enough already_. L looked alarmed when he noticed the rush of salt water pouring from her face and the beginnings of some hiccupping sobs rising in her throat. He shuffled nearer, unsure of whether Rose would attack him, physically or verbally, if he got closer. But the fight seemed to have left her.

"I am sorry for that, I am. I was... I was jealous. It pains me to admit it, because possessiveness strikes me as an ugly and pointless quality, but it turns out that I too get jealous. So, I'm sorry. I didn't know I was capable of such vindictiveness." He thought for a moment, and clarified himself. "Well, not directed at someone I care for." He tentatively put a hand on her knee and breathed a quiet sigh of relief when she didn't knock him away. _This churning, sickening feeling inside me,_ he thought, _this is guilt again, is it not? This is guilt for what I've done._ _The worst emotion in the repertoire and I seem to be feeling it horribly regularly. Why do I keep making so many mistakes? Aren't I supposed to be a genius, is that not what people call me?_

Rose fought for a minute or so to regain control of her tears, slowing them to a trickle, and faced away from him, staring down the bridge. When she spoke her voice was low and quiet and faraway. "It hurt already, you know. You didn't need to rub it in. You don't know what it's like to be used, L. You don't know what it's like to know that what someone is doing to you is for their purposes alone, and what you want is entirely irrelevant to them. I know what that feels like better than most. And so it already hurt when I worked out why Mello did what he did – it hurt because he didn't mean it, but he managed to convince me it was real, he lied with his body and soul and I believed him. When really it was all about spiting you, I was just a tool for hurting you. I was a fool. Can you comprehend how much that makes me feel like nothing, absolutely nothing?"

The churning inside L reached a new zenith, so much that he thought he might actually be sick, and he clenched his teeth hard. "Mmm," he whispered miserably, wishing that the bridge would collapse and crush him between thick pillars of stone beneath the freezing water. "You're right, I don't understand, and I didn't try to. I was... immature."

"You were." Rose turned to look at him. Her brown-green, almond shaped eyes met his with such vulnerability and strength that L's legs almost gave way, and he swayed against the balustrade. The remnants of tears sparkled in her eyelashes. "But so was I," she added, and took his hand in hers.

They stood in silence for a moment.

And then L felt a bubble of resentment well up inside him as he remembered the months of suffering that had not been his fault.

"What is it?" Rose asked, seeing the tightening of his jaw, the shadow descend on his brow.

"I was angry at you for what happened with Mello for only a matter of minutes," he explained, voice tightly controlled, "and after that only at him. No, what makes me angry at you is bigger than that."

"Oh?"

"You drove me away," L said, and the control over his hushed voice cracked slightly. "You forced me to leave without you, you cut me out. Do you have any idea what THAT feels like?"

It was Rose's turn to internally squirm. Neither could bear to look at each other.

When L spoke again he muttered fast and quietly and Rose struggled to catch every word. "Rose you broke behind my walls, walls I didn't even know I had, you forced me to feel, you tore me out of my safe existence, you made me hope for so much, and then you cut it all off. And I obeyed because I thought it was what you wanted, and I'd sacrifice my happiness for that. I did what you asked, I tried to forget about it. And now, today, after observing your behaviour it's obvious that our separation has hurt you as much as I, and I have to ask why?" He looked at her then, and Rose was forced to meet his gaze. It was a bright, dark stare, unrelenting. "Why would you do something against the wishes of both of us, why would you make us suffer pointlessly?"

"I thought it would be better for you. I did, I truly did."

L made a strange bitter noise in his throat that Rose had never heard before. _I suppose I've never seen him bitter before._

"No Rose, I'll tell you why you made us suffer, it was your pride."

"My-" she started, outraged, but he cut her off.

"You were too proud to let me see you helpless, too proud to let yourself be looked after. And you were too proud because you were too insecure. Too insecure to believe that I could love you no matter what."

Rose's breath caught in her throat, she felt the tears well up again, and she blinked her eyes shut to avoid that bottomless gaze striking further into her soul. _His words are true, I know they're true. But god they hurt._ And then with a jolt she realised that that was the first time the word 'love' had ever been used between them, even indirectly, and she felt immeasurably dizzy.

"Rose," L whispered, and caught her salted wet cheeks in his hands, "you hate to lose as much as I do, I know that. You hate to be anything less than perfect in everything you do. But you don't have to be perfect for me to want you. I may not be well versed in practical relationships, but I'm well versed in human nature. So all I've got to say is: you do not have to push me away when you think you're not good enough."

A single wracking sob wrenched through her, and Rose clutched the cool-fingered hands at her face and pressed them further into her cheeks to a pressure that could've been painful had the feelings inside her not totally overwhelmed it. Opening her eyes, blinking the water away, she allowed the oil-black eyes meeting hers to break into her heart once more and dissolve her resistance, feeling all parts of her innermost self naked and visible and tender. And from those eyes and those hands a great compassion tangibly, almost physically poured into her, greater than she knew existed, and she sank with relief as it washed away her tenseness and her dread. Rose's tears dried, her heartbeat slowed, and she took a couple of deep, measured breaths. Then she took his hands off her cheeks and held them tightly in her lap.

 _You beautiful, ruinous, delicate, tortuous creature_ , L thought, as he watched the calm restore itself to her. _What have you done to me?_

"Will you tell me what happened in Australia?" Rose asked, desperately needing to know, but not wanting to hear it, all at once. L didn't reply immediately.

"I will. But not right now. I warn you that Wedy story is only half of the saga – and the less dreadful half." He gazed up at her, shadow-eyed. "I dread telling for fear you will never speak to me again."

Rose tsked. "It can't be that bad."

"It might be," L replied dubiously. "You may have made your mistakes, but I've some too. Anyway, I cannot inform you now. We have a plane to catch."

"A plane?"

"Yes. Mello has already left for Russia. The farther we're behind the worse off we'll be. Talking must wait until Russia."

Rose nodded slowly. "Of course." _It's impressive that he's let even this conversation preside over resolving the case._ Sliding stiffly off her seat she took up pace beside L, and they headed towards the hotel just as streaks of sunlight began to glow in between the skyscrapers.

 _Thank you very much for reading =]_


	50. Chapter 50: Moscow

_Cheers to the folks who've reviewed! Here's a much less emotionally dramatic chapter haha – I apologise in advance if people feel like not enough happens, but it's supposed to be the 'calm before the storm' so to speak, so I didn't want to rush this quiet interlude. I hope you enjoy it._

Rose blinked awake, shifted uncomfortably in the reclined plane seat, and checked the time. It was late evening. It wasn't just the time difference between the countries - the exhaustion of her emotion that morning had made her sleep longer than usual. _We'll be in Russia in only a matter of minutes._ Matt had his headphones on, and was playing some kind of hyper-violent video game in the seat in front of her. She could just catch a glimpse of oversized guns, blood splatters and exploding people. Rose turned her head sideways. L, looking strangely like a large bird, was crouched on his seat peering at a screen.

"The quote," he said, having heard her movement, "was lyrics after all. And their connection with Mello proves without a doubt that your suspicions are correct. The reason we never found them was because they were originally written in Russian – by Andrei Keehl, of course. However their band-name is English, like two of their albums – Revolta. A good word to use for a politically active punk-metal band – the dual meaning between 'revolting' as 'disgusting' and 'revolting' as a 'popular uprising against the authorities' is highly appropriate for such a group."

"I see." Rose pushed herself and her seat upright, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. The little window revealed a land mass that was becoming more detailed by the second, as the plane descended beneath the cloud layer towards Moscow. "How is he?" She asked L, motioning towards Matt.

L shrugged. "He hasn't looked up from that game for nine hours and twenty six minutes, except to refill his vaporiser after hour five. I imagine you can come to your own conclusions from that evidence."

Rose nodded. "I suppose you can't expect anyone to take the simultaneous double-betrayal of one's girlfriend and best friend 'well'."

"No, one cannot."

The plane landed, and the shuttle took them to the front of the airport where their hire-car waited. Matt immediately switched from vaporiser to cigarette.

"All aboard ladies and gentlemen," he said, but without his usual verve and aplomb.

The journey into Moscow from Domodedovo Airport took about an hour. Matt was uncharacteristically quiet, tuned in only to the alien sound of Russian radio, and Rose knew L was not going to offer forward any small-talk, so she took it upon herself to create conversation. Having no desire to dwell upon the case for a little while, she engineered a conversation about Russia. L seemed happy to oblige, and they discussed their knowledge of Russia, its culture, language and politics for pretty much the whole journey. It turned out, of course, that L could speak Russian. He seemed to think that he was only 'passably' proficient, but to Rose's ears it sounded perfectly fluent.

When they reached The St. Regis Moscow Nikolskaya Hotel and entered the foyer, Rose raised her eyebrows. "Did you deliberately choose the most expensive hotel in Moscow?" she murmured.

L scratched his head shiftily. "I thought we all deserved a treat."

Rose stifled a laugh. "I'm not sure how it'll help, especially for Matt. Money can't mend a broken heart."

"No, but it's very good at helping you to forget it for a short while. That's all I'm trying to do."

Rose hmmmed her assent and then fell quiet as a porter came to guide them to their suite.

As soon as the equipment was set up the phone-line was buzzing with messages and calls from the UK and US governments. L sighed. "Deal with the UK, Fern. Matt, you carry on communicating with the Russians. I'll take the US."

Rose found herself on the phone, under cover of the distorted voice, to a very stressed Secretary of State for Defence.

"So? What have you discovered? We've got to give the media something, they're like circus leaders throwing scraps to starved lions, the public have gone wild, talking about our incompetence and insecurity. Everyone's afraid, L, we HAVE to get this resolved."

"I understand, and I am pleased to tell you that we now know the identity of the assassin and we're hot on his tail."

"So? Who is it? Some nut? A foreign agent? A large conspiracy? Do they have an agenda?"

"I'm afraid for security reasons I cannot inform you of his identity yet minister." L had decided that if at all possible they should mask the identity of Mello, in case his arrest caused the government to investigate Wammy's House.

"Security reasons?! I'm the fucking Secretary of Defence!" Rose heard him bluster, and bit back a sharp retort.

"Be that as it may minister, I cannot yet reveal his identity. But you may know that it is indeed the same figure that murdered the President and he goes by the code name 'M'. We have followed him to Russia where we will shortly apprehend him." Rose heard the minister suck in his breath.

"So it's true what the Yankees said, gone to Russia. Is he a Russian agent? Is this Russia's way of starting world war three?"

"To my knowledge he is not an agent of the Russian authorities, he is working quite alone."

"Yes yes, well we'll see about that. All I can say, L, is that you better live up to your reputation and catch him quickly, because if you don't, I can see the Cold War becoming a very 'Hot' one shortly."

With that doom-filled prognosis, the Secretary of State for Defence hung up. Rose groaned. Within a couple of minutes L had finished his phone-call too. His countenance was dark.

"The US have decided that this is Russia's doing."

"Yes, I'm aware," Rose commiserated. "And the UK government refuse to contravene the US's opinion on the matter – they will just follow them blindly in this, even if that means starting a war."

"I've never known a client to be so obstinate that they'll directly contradict my judgement," L muttered irritably. "I thought my assurance that it was not the Russian authorities would be enough – but no, they're too scared and determined to keep up their show of bravado to just let things happen at their natural pace. No, they have to be seen to be 'doing' something immediately, and unfortunately that something seems to be very stupidly antagonising the Russian government by hypocritically accusing _them_ of international aggravation. Governments," he cursed.

"Governments," Rose agreed.

"Okay, the presidential building is on lock-down," Matt piped up from the other side of the room, where he'd been setting up a complex monitoring and security system around a cream embroidered chaise-long. "The president's reluctantly done as you asked and has cancelled all appointments for the next three days. He wasn't happy about it, I can tell you. He'd agreed to take his most important meetings on Skype. Manpower in security has been doubled, surveillance is being relayed to me, and every person to go in and out is fully searched."

"Good job. Any sign of the two M's?"

"Not yet. Mello left the airport before we sounded the alarm and disappeared to fuck knows where, and it doesn't seem that... that _Misa Amane_ has entered the country." Matt veritably spat out her name. "Of course she may have travelled under a fake identity in disguise, but I think until each airport has fully searched their CCTV footage we should assume she isn't here."

"Yes I'm inclined to agree. I suspect Misa has been no more than a pawn in this game, and is probably now irrelevant to proceedings. However, we would be unwise to underestimate her again. We must keep a global watch for her."

L rang for room service. "Urrrh, one large plate of Zefir, a Ptichye Moloko cake, and... a plate of Pastila, please. And for you two?" He asked.

"Whatever they've got that isn't solely meat and carbs," Rose requested.

"Whatever they've got with the MOST meat and carbs," Matt conversely demanded. "And a large bottle of your finest vodka."

L relayed the instructions, before speaking in Russian to the double agents that the authorities already had living amongst the more important criminal organisations in Moscow.

"Being as M infiltrated the UK crime scene thoroughly, to be cautious we should assume that he has done the same to a limited degree in Russia. They may be sheltering or aiding him in some way, so tell us if you hear any word of this man. Or of a woman that looks suspiciously like him. We'll send you each a photo of him shortly. If you do come across him, do not act rashly. Call us immediately, and WE will form a plan of action. Unless your very life is threatened, do not attempt to catch or kill him yourself. That will be all."

"Yes boss," replied several voices.

The food arrived and they tucked into their respective meals, Matt pouring a double-shot of vodka and downing it in two gulps, immediately pouring another. Rose sent him a sharp look.

"Don't get wasted, Matt. We need your full attention on the surveillance equipment."

"Relax. I can handle it. Want one?" he asked, brandishing the bottle.

Rose hesitated. "Okay, just one."

"And you, L?"

"We're working on a case, what do you think my response is going to be?"

When the food was done Matt fine-tuned his programming of the equipment, and Rose and L discussed what they knew already carefully, trying to uncover a clue as to where Mello might be, and what he might do next. But nothing seemed to reveal anything of relevance beyond what they already expected: that he might make bombs, and might kill the president. With the country on high-alert, and the city of Moscow on even higher alert, it seemed – annoyingly – that there wasn't actually much for them to do but wait for more information to present itself.

Matt poured himself his fourth shot, and waved the bottle around again. He was lying on the chaise-long amongst all the surveillance equipment, and had been trawling lazily from screen to screen for about half an hour. "Anyone else?"

Rose looked over at him from her own plush, embroidered armchair. _To be fair, it was very good vodka. And there's not much to do._ "Just one more."

As Matt poured her second, L wordlessly handed him an empty cup. The goggled young man raised his eyebrows, and then grinned, taking the cup. "I knew you'd warm up to the idea! Fuck the world, it can take care of itself."

"I am merely trying the taste. We must be alert and ready for any new occurrences."

"Yeah, yeah."

Rose watched as L gingerly took the cup between forefinger and thumb, sniffed the liquid, and pulled a face.

"Are you sure this is fit for human consumption?"

"Hell yeah it is!" Matt assured, and downed his as if to prove it.

L followed suit, and Rose saw his eyes widen with shock as the alcohol burned down his throat to his stomach. She stifled a laugh.

"It isn't at all like the alcohol Fern gave me in Japan!" He coughed.

"No it isn't," Rose agreed. "And I didn't give it to you, you stole the bottle out of my kitchen," she reprimanded.

He wiggled his toes, and rolled his eyes sideways. "Oh yes, so I did."

Two hours and most of the vodka later Matt was sitting on the floor, half-slumped against the chaise-long, a cigarette burning out between his fingers as he crooned miserably along to a selection of melancholy love-songs he'd loaded on youtube.

"And every time I try to fly, I faaaall, without my wings, I feel so smaaaall... I guess I need you baby... And every time I see you in my dreeeaams, I see your face, it's haunting meeee... I guess I need you baby..."

Rose was sitting sideways in the plush armchair, her legs hooked over one of the arms and her head resting on the other, staring upwards. She smiled at the ceiling – hearing Matt sing pop songs half out of tune (that he usually wouldn't be caught dead listening to) was about the funniest thing she could think of, and she would have teased him about it if he hadn't seemed so genuinely depressed. But, as it was, she didn't have the heart to mock the melancholy guy.

Off to her left L was creating sugar-cube towers of increasing complexity on the marble coffee table. He had been silent for the last hour or so, steadily building, apparently completely absorbed in his task. However, Rose knew from the faraway focus in his eyes that he had been thinking deeply, and therefore had refrained from disturbing him, even when she'd found there was something she wanted to say. Yet presently there was an unexpected sound, and Rose turned to him in astonishment, not believing her ears. _No, it's true! It's actually happening! L is humming along to Britney Spears!_

Matt had been one thing, but this was more than she could bear. Rose howled with laughter, and almost rolled off her chair. Two serious pairs of eyes looked at her in confusion.

"What is it?" L asked.

Their oblivion just made her howl louder, convulsing with giggles, until eventually they subsided and Rose just sat there, grinning fondly at them.

A couple more hours passed. Matt's singing gradually became quieter and more out of tune, until he curled up on the chaise-long in a deeply unconscious sleep. Grey morning light was peering around the edges of the curtains, and Rose felt her eyelids drooping.

"Sleep," L said softly, not looking up from his sugar masterpiece. "I'll keep my eye on things."

So Rose ambled tiredly to the bed, and within minutes was unconscious too. She dreamt of mountains. What happened in her dream was lost and forgotten, but she remembered the mountains – green and purple and grey, swathed in tendrils of cloud, and as empty of human life as the sky above.

Waking after three hours, Rose stretched, sat up, and saw L standing by one of the windows, staring out at the city.

"Many things have happened since you slept," he said, and Rose tensed at the deceptively calm tone to his voice.

"What?"

"The president has been assassinated," L replied, in the same calm, sad voice that made Rose frightened.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"I thought it best to let you both sleep," he continued, and his voice was faraway and soft, like the whisper of a breeze in the leaves of a distant tree.

"How did he do it?"

"The president's breakfast was poisoned. He died at 09:21am this morning, just as a doctor arrived. The accomplice, a young kitchen porter by the name of Vlad Dubinin, left immediately after the deed was completed, and has since disappeared. It is assumed that he must have been working there as a spy for several months."

"And, is it definitely Mello behind it?"

"Nothing is ever definite," L responded after a moment, still staring out of the window. "But I think it is sensible to assume his involvement, and to assume his ingratiation with the more powerful of Russia's underworld has been successful."

There was a protracted silence. Rose, watching him carefully, wondered what was going on in his head. Usually such an occurrence would spark L into a blaze of passionate, righteous, incredibly well-thought-out action, but he didn't seem to want to be doing anything about it at all.

"What's wrong?" She inquired cautiously. He didn't reply immediately.

"B..." Was the first thing he said, and the letter hung in the air, meaningless to Rose. "When B did what he did, I brushed it off as an anomaly. I told myself that he was a special case, that he already had a tendency for madness and violence, and none of the other pupils of Wammy's House would be likely to share that derangement. But now, as Mello follows the same pattern, I begin to wonder... I begin to suspect that it is no anomaly. It's our fault. It's Wammy's fault. It's my fault. We have created monsters."

"It's not your fault," Rose protested, and stood up to move nearer.

"Polarisation..." L murmured to the pane of glass... "I begin to think that if one tries to create a strong force of good, the only sure result is that a strong force of evil will rise up to meet its challenge. If I had not been doing the things I was doing, there would have been no B, no M, no you protecting The Group, no Light wishing to bring justice upon the world. I'm beginning to wonder whether the whole world might be safer if I were simply to... disappear."

Rose snaked her arms around his waist from behind, laying her head on his shoulder, and pulling him close. She felt troubled, but certain in her convictions. "No," she contradicted with peaceful surety. "For each bad thing you've caused, it is without a doubt that you have prevented several more from happening. The institute of Wammy's House itself has some serious answering to do, but it's not YOUR fault. Not everything rests on your shoulders – you've been a victim of its failings too."

L didn't answer, but the arms that wrapped around hers and squeezed gently were enough of an answer. Rose nuzzled into his bare neck, relishing the sweet warmth of his skin and the tickling of his locks of hair.

"He knows not what he does," L said softly, and Rose heard on top of the sadness a strain of fear laced through his voice. "He is like a child that pokes the nose of a sleeping dragon. Three of the world's great forces have been angered. Once these beasts have been roused, they do not sleep again until their wrath has burnt and desecrated everything that they believe has disturbed them. When their revenge strikes it will come down upon the sacrificed party like the heavy hand of god, and we will be powerless to stop them. The wheels are turning, Rose. And there's little we can do."

They stood that way for a while longer, staring unseeingly at the spread of buildings before them. Drops of rain began to fall from the sky and slide down the windowpane, blurring their view into a fractured mirage of shapes bent slightly out of normal shape.

 _Brriinnng brriinnnng._

The phone made Rose jump slightly. She felt L take in and release one long, purposeful breath, and then he turned round, dropping her arms.

"Let's see what this brings."

He moved over to the desk and hopped lightly into a chair.

"Yes?"

"We've found Misa Amane, sir. She's just entered the country and is heading to Moscow. What shall we do."

"Follow her," L said immediately. "Follow her and do not let her escape your sight for one second."

"Yes boss."

He hung up.

"I assume you're thinking she'll lead us to Mello?" Rose checked.

"I do, and if she doesn't, it will be valuable to capture and question her anyway. If we can apprehend Mello in time and prove to the world it was him and not whichever institution they choose to scapegoat then we may still be able to avoid catastrophe." L's jaw tightened as a shadow of deep, calm fury settled over his face. "I will pull him out of whatever hole he's hiding in myself if I have to. And when I do... that boy will suffer the consequences of his stupidity. Justice will prevail."

Rose grinned. "That's better!"

 _Thanks for reading, do comment if you have a moment, it's interesting hearing peoples thoughts =] I'll be posting another one tomorrow, where things start heating up again!_


	51. Chapter 51: A Family Affair

The taxi carrying Misa Amane whizzed north, up the motorway from the airport towards Moscow. An unmarked car carrying two members of the Politsiya, the Russian police, was following closely behind. Rose listened to their updates, expecting the taxi to plunge towards the heart of Moscow, but to her surprise the taxi took the ring-road, circling the capital on the eastern side. She looked at the screen, where the pulsating blob that indicated the tracked police car inched slowly across the digital map, slower than a snail.

 _What are we going to do when we catch him?_ Rose pondered. The question had been niggling at her. For as much as she resented him, she had no desire to see Mello incarcerated for the rest of his life, or worse. _He's not evil, he's just angry. He's too clever for his own maturity. He wants respect, and control over his own destiny, who doesn't? But we can't let these murders go unpunished. What are we supposed to do?_

No answers were appearing, so she took herself into a far corner of the room and started to train. She hadn't tried to do so since before her disability, and she was shocked to feel how weak her lower body had become, and how hard it was to balance and move accurately in the mechanical boots. But Rose persevered, and slowly, after almost an hour, a little of her former grace began to return to the once-familiar movements.

"They've turned off down a track into Elk Island National Park," Matt called over to her.

She stopped her training and returned to the two young men at the screen. "How long will it take to drive there?"

"Just over an hour."

"Then we should probably get going."

"I'll get the car," Matt said, standing up to leave.

"No," L ordered gently. "You stay here."

Matt trembled slightly, and his jaw jutted in defiance. "No. I want to come. I want to see him myself, I want to-"

"I know," L replied. "And that's one of the reasons you must stay – we can't risk your emotions causing you to do something unwise. The other reason is, of course, that it is a mistake to put all one's eggs in one basket, so to speak. And since I am choosing to go, someone else must remain behind."

Matt teetered with indecision for a moment, twisting his lips, but eventually nodded. "Fine."

Darting quickly around the room, Rose gathered various useful instruments in her bag – the lock-picker with its various extensions, a small knife, miniature binoculars, a few pieces of software on a memory stick that could hack computer functions in several different ways, and two pairs of handcuffs. Once ready, she and L headed towards the door. As they did Matt tapped on Rose's back, and handed her a black, gleaming, heavy metal object. She looked down and saw that it was a gun.

"Matt! I had no idea you had this."

"Well, I do. Take it, and use it if you must. I'm damned if I'm gonna let you two die because you couldn't defend yourselves against whoever might try to kill you."

"Thank you," Rose said, and she meant it.

Soon she and L were in the hire car, and moving out of the centre of Moscow.

"Do we have police back-up?" Rose enquired.

"Except for the two under-covers already there, no," L said hesitantly.

This was unusual for such an operation, but Rose thought she could guess why. "Because of who he is, right?"

"That is correct. I've asked certain... people I know to create Mello a fake identity, but they have only just finished it, and the pertinent documents such as his passport have not had time to arrive in Russia yet. If the Politsiya apprehend him before we do, and discover who he is and where he comes from, Wammy's House will be torn apart, and perhaps all our identities will be revealed. No. I cannot risk that."

"I understand. Better to keep it a family affair for now."

There was a silence as L negotiated a busy roundabout, and Rose could see the narrowing of his eyes as he thought about something.

"I'd keep it entirely as a 'family affair' if I could," he explained after a while. "I want him to be punished, but I don't want him to go down in history as an assassin. It's a small part of Mello's life and his character. No, I'd deal with it all myself if possible, like I dealt with you."

"I'm so glad," Rose admitted. "That's exactly how I feel, but I thought you might wish that fate upon him."

L shook his head. "No. But the fact remains that if we don't present the culprit very soon to the US, UK and Russia – with a perfect bank of evidence to prove that he did it – then they will choose their own target and crush it, as I said before. Normally I wouldn't rush into action like this, I'd make a much more careful plan, but we don't have the time to waste. And it contravenes all my principles to invent false evidence. So, we have no choice but to hand him over, as soon as the fake identity is in place. I only hope that he retains the decency to stick to the false identity, and not reveal us all. I believe he wouldn't – it strikes me that in such a situation his anti-authority trait would probably cause him to side with Wammy's House over those three governments."

"I hope so."

City turned into woodland, grassland, wetland. Hints of spring were beginning to show – a flush of yellow-green here and there, or a flowering tree. There were signs of a few families enjoying the outdoors, and Rose remembered that it was the weekend. As they moved further out from the city however, the number of people dwindled.

Matt called. "You're about to come up to the track, it's on the right hand side. It goes into the wild for about 10 miles, and it's basically at the end that the Politsiya car is. I've been on the line to them, and they said that Misa's taxi left about half an hour ago with no Misa inside. They're pretty sure no one saw them, they parked behind a thicket of trees just off the track. What should I tell them to do?"

"They still believe this is a drugs bust, am I right?"

"Yes."

"Then tell them to wait there for us. We will probably need their help getting in."

"Sure."

But after a few moments still on the line, Matt made a troubled noise. "There's no reply, the line's gone dead."

"Okay. Thanks Matt." L hung up and put the phone back on his lap, returning his right hand to the wheel. "Looks like we're on our own."

It then occurred to Rose what a dangerous thing they were doing. They were going to an unknown place, with little protection, where who knows what unknown dangers could be waiting for them. The whiteness of L's knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel suggested a similar thought had occurred to him.

"L..." Rose ventured after a little deliberation. "Is it worth protecting Wammy's House from being exposed, if in the process we both die and Mello is not apprehended?"

His face, in profile as he watched the road, was mostly hidden by the sweep of his tangled black hair, but Rose saw his shoulders rise and fall with tension he was attempting to control.

"For me, it is worth it. Better to preserve the institution than one of its products, for more products can be made if one still has the set-up with which to do it. Destroy the institution, and the future is lost. I have made my choice, but I cannot make yours for you. If you've had second thoughts and wish to go no further, I will drop you somewhere and continue."

Rose looked at him, but there was just a curtain of hair. "Don't be stupid, of course I'm coming. I just wanted to check that you realised what we were doing."

"Of course I realise," he said, in a half-echo of her words. "Besides – do we really have that much to worry about? We have the element of surprise, good martial skills, and a generous portion of brain-power. That should see us through most difficulties."

And the car grumbled onwards up the track. Presently, Matt called again.

"I've been searching the area on various maps – there's no sign of any buildings, so I'm guessing we must be dealing with something underground. Just a heads up."

"We'll bear that in mind."

"Also, you're a mile from the Politsiya vehicle now, and considering they ain't responding, I wouldn't drive much fuckin' closer to be honest."

"Okay. Thank you."

L pulled over, and they began to walk down the track. It was gravelled, but thin dry grass was peppered throughout it, and this softened their footfalls. All along the sides of the track were narrow grassy banks and ditches, and behind them nothing but trees, as far as they could tell. In low murmurs they discussed plans – what they would do if they came across people that weren't Mello, what they would do if people tried to fight them, what they would do if Mello was alone...

Twenty minutes later they reached the unmarked police car. It sat there, undamaged, locked, with no one inside. It was as if the policemen had just gone for a walk.

The trees were beginning to rise a little on either side of them – they were entering a low valley. The national park was mostly flat marshy grassland, so this was a little unusual. The earth was noticeably drier here. And it was quiet. Very quiet. Neither was speaking now, and so Rose jumped when L whispered to her.

"We must be close now. Let's approach through the trees."

They crossed the drainage ditch and bank, and moved forward amongst the aspens, birches and pines. _Damn the fact it's still early spring,_ Rose thought. _If the aspens and birches were in leaf we'd have much better cover._ After a further five minutes they rounded a slight bend, and found they'd reached the end of the small valley, and the end of the track. The track led right up to a huge, cragged outcrop of rock, and simply stopped. A few birches clung grimly onto life, wedging their roots in the bigger cracks in the stone.

Rose motioned to a good spot behind two pine trees. They had agreed to stop and simply watch the area for a little while, and so each sat beneath a pine, peering under its branches towards the track.

"Clear signs of well-used ground, snaking round the right of the outcrop," L muttered, "what looks like badly covered up tire tracks. And seemingly no paths or roads into the trees behind."

Rose visually scanned, and nodded in agreement. Then she was struck with a memory of the last time she and L had been looking at clues in a forest – when she'd taken 'Ryuzaki' to the Mendips to find out if he was L, and the attentive way he'd tracked the deer. _I've changed so much since then. We both have._

Almost forty minutes passed in quiet focus, whilst nothing happened. But then, dimly at first, they heard a clank, a grumble, then a screech, and round from the right-hand edge of the crag came a silver car, seemingly from nowhere. It wasted no time, and sped off down the track towards civilisation.

After a while longer it was apparent that no other vehicle was to follow, and Rose and L in silent agreement got up, and began to move through the woods round the back of the jagged stone behemoth to get a better look at the entrance to whatever was below ground. Hidden from the track, a large rusty double-door was embedded in the rock. It looked too old to be usable, and had Rose not witnessed a car appear from it with her own eyes she'd have assumed it to be defunct.

L had taken the binoculars out of her bag, and was studying the rock face carefully. "There doesn't seem to be any cameras, but I can't say for sure. They could be VERY well hidden."

Rose looked at the door in despair. _Modern doors I can do – things protected by computer are well within my capabilities. But THIS ancient monstrosity? I'd need at the very least an angle grinder, or perhaps a diamond edged circular saw, maybe even some dynamite. Hardly stealthy options, and currently impossible anyway. But there's got to be SOME kind of weakness or flaw to it that I can exploit, if I can just work it out._ "I'm going to investigate closer," she informed L.

"Okay. Be on guard."

Rose edged through the trees, and with a searching glance and a careful listen all around her, approached the door. Except for the thickly bolted frame the door was simply two large slabs of iron with not even a lock. _Could that be right?_ She examined it more carefully, but there was no opening mechanism at all. _Interesting. So it can only be opened from the inside; that must mean there's another entrance somewhere._

Satisfied that she'd learnt all she could from the door, Rose turned to rejoin L. She reached the trees with no problems, and caught L's eye with relief. And then, within the space of a second, she heard a heavy 'clack', and felt something sharp pierce her neck. She cried out in alarm, and pulled the item out of her skin, just as she heard another 'clack', and saw an identical object bury itself in L's neck. Pulling the thing out of her flesh hurriedly, Rose had just enough time to see that it was a stun dart before collapsing onto the leaf-litter, out for the count.

 _Thanks for reading! Sorry to leave it on a cliffhanger for a few days, but probs won't be able to write until early next week now. Have a good weekend =]_


	52. Chapter 52: Incarceration

Cloudy darkness. Heaviness. But the cloudiness wasn't a product of her environment; Rose could tell it was the product of her mind. She blinked a few times, took a few focused breaths, and her eyes gained some clarity. She was in a long, low, underground room, up against one of the longer sides. A battery powered lamp emitted a faint beige glow from one corner, next to an armchair and two upright wooden chairs. Some antiquated and defunct bits of old machinery stuck out of the wall opposite her, on either side of the only door.

A slight strain in her arms made her focus on the position of her body. Her arms were each secured to the wall above her head in some kind of metal cuff. Her ankles were similarly locked to the floor, but the cuffs were located such that Rose found she was sitting quite comfortably on the floor leaning against the cool concrete wall. This comforted her – it meant that Mello wasn't interested in torturing them, for now at least. _And if he's not fallen that far... then maybe we have a chance of saving him_.

Turning her head to her right, Rose saw L mirroring her position. He, however, hadn't woken up yet. To her surprise Rose could see that Misa was similarly trussed up just beyond him. And she was awake. Rose felt a little coil of fury twist inside her.

"Misa," she growled.

The blonde jumped at the sound of her voice.

"Oh, hey Fern! I didn't realise you were awake," she said, in perfectly respectable English.

"Of course you know English," Rose muttered. "Why are you tied up too? I thought you were on _his_ side?"

"I am." Rose couldn't see her properly with L in the way, but she heard Misa's voice turn woeful, wistful and self-pitying. "He's punishing me for leading you here. He told me not to come, I didn't listen... I couldn't help it I had to see him!"

"Do you have any idea," Rose said slowly and deliberately, laying heavy stress on each word, "what you've done to Matt?"

"I'm sure he's fine, boys are always fine aren't they?"

"No he isn't – and no, they're not. You really hurt him Misa."

There was a small silence. "I did like him, I genuinely did. I wasn't totally faking it all, you know. It's just... I like Mello more. Lots more. I think we must be soulmates!"

Rose snorted. "With what I've seen of you you're more likely to be soulmates with my big toe."

"Hey no need to get bitchy, who the hell do you think you are, English woman? I'm the one who's a top model, I'm the one who's also a double agent for the sexiest man in the world who's helped him do amazing things!"

Rose didn't respond – there was really no point. At her silence Misa crowed in victory, and Rose hid her dry smile.

At that point the door swung open, and Mello strolled in.

"Mello!" Misa squeaked.

He didn't reply to her, but gave Rose an appraising stare. "How good to see you again! You're awake. Good. Let's wake _him_ up," he said, spitting out the pronoun.

Rose watched him as he walked over to L and shook his face until L woke up. Rose had thought that maybe, after all that had happened, she'd look at Mello and not find him attractive, but he still was. The lustrous brown fur coat he'd been wearing in London encased his form again, and once L was blinking into consciousness, he strode over to the armchair, and laid the heavy garment on it. The big black boots, skin-tight trousers and vest were also in place, but this time the trousers were deep purple. Mello removed a bar of chocolate from the folds of his coat and took a measured bite. The crack of splitting chocolate sounded supernaturally loud in the concrete room.

"And I suppose she's tied up for leading us here?" L asked, motioning towards Misa.

"Yep. I was very fucking angry at her. But, as it happens, it's all gone rather wonderfully, so I'm going to let her free now. A few hours down there is enough of a punishment for disobeying me." He took a key out of his pocket and released each of Misa's cuffs, causing her to spring upon him like an excitable Tigger.

"Yayyyyyyy! So are you gonna take me on that date you promised as thanks for leading him to you?"

"Once this all blows over, of course I will."

Rose wondered if he was telling the truth.

Mello settled comfortably in the armchair, one ankle resting on the opposite leg, and surveyed the scene with satisfaction. Misa sat on the floor at his feet, arms around his calves.

"Well!" Mello exclaimed quietly. "This really couldn't have gone much better." He flashed a dazzling smile. Taking a hipflask from the fur coat, he took a deep gulp and sighed with satisfaction. "Well, what to do with you now?"

"You could tell us how you pulled off the assassinations," suggested L.

Mello's eyes widened and his eyebrows raised, in both surprise and disdain. "You mean that famous L hasn't worked it out? Fucking hell, you must be getting old. You're losing your touch."

"I knew enough to keep up with you."

"Not enough to stop me," Mello jeered.

"How did you gain influence in the criminal world?"

Rose was impressed at how calm L sounded. She was even slightly disturbed at how coolly interested he appeared. _Is it a facade? Or is he as interested in this game as Mello is himself?_

Mello chuckled. "It's pretty easy. Most people in the global underworld are horribly predictable: all are self-interested, all see status in terms of power, money, and sex. So first you give the big guys what they want – you devise a few strategies that make them millions of pounds within a week, quickly and easily – they love that. So then they love you, but they still gotta respect you. So you gotta show your power over weak people, gotta show them you're ruthless and can't be tricked, which I can't. And the final nail in the coffin – women. If all the women wanna fuck you, the men respect you. And if you get the hearts of their women, the bosses ain't got nothin' on ya that you can't repay. It's a simple game."

L nodded. "Yes, I also find the criminal world depressingly predictable."

Rose was seething at Mello's words, and thus also at L's seeming lack of reaction to them. _How dare he be so cosy with him! I hope this is part of some bigger strategy, because right now he's behaving like an arsehole._

"So what do YOU care about Mello?" Rose snarled. "Because as it appears to me right now, you're exactly the same as them: a self-interested angry little boy, just wanting status through power, money and sex. You're just a little cleverer at it, that's all, well fucking done, bravo. What makes you so superior?"

L sent her a warning look, but it was too late because Mello's face had darkened, and he had risen fluidly from the chair, kicking Misa gently aside.

"You're in a funny sort of position to be making such remarks," he hissed in a gilded, smooth voice, but one that seemed to be painted on top of a great concealed tension. "Have you forgotten where you are? Have you forgotten how utterly you have failed? Have you forgotten that I could kill you any minute that I chose?" He had drawn a small gun out of his back pocket, at which Misa made a funny little squeak, but was silenced by a wave of Mello's hand. His eyes burned into hers with a strained, supernatural green light. "Or better still... him? It could be a slow death, and you could watch even second of it if you like."

Rose bit back the fury and frustration seething inside her. _Mustn't push him. That must've been L's thoughts – best not to push him in these circumstances._

Mello had slowly pressed the gun into L's shoulder. "Apologise."

"Sorry."

"No, a better apology than that. Else I won't believe you really want to keep him alive."

Rose cursed inwardly. _I do not want to prostrate myself before you, you silly child. But do I have a choice? I don't want to encourage in anyway a circumstance where he actually WOULD shoot L. Fine. I'll do it._ "I'm really truly sorry Mello, for speaking stupidly. You're right, I'm in no position to say such things, you're the one in control here."

"So, should I shoot him?"

"No."

"Beg me." Mello gave a wide toothy grin.

Once more swallowing her retorts, Rose attempted to spit out what he wanted to hear. "Please please please don't shoot L. I beg you."

Mello laughed, and stood up, swaying slightly as if from exhilaration. "Whoo! That was fun. I could do this all day." Taking a little pot from his pocket, he inhaled some of the fine white powder from inside and whooped again, his head tilting back and his pupils dilating. "But I'm going to go now and play some other games. See you guys later, it's been great!"

He headed for the door, taking a key out of his pocket, pressing it, and unlocking the door

with something like an electronic car-key. "Come on Misa!"

She trotted out behind him, and the door shut again.

"Aaaaargghhh!" Rose screamed out her anger and irritation, her fear of their helplessness. "What are we gonna do?"

L shut his eyes for a second, hiding his panic from her. _She's losing it. Must not seem weak, or she'll get even worse._ He slowed the frantic pacing of his heart, tried to erase the pressure of the gun pressing into his shoulder that was still somehow there. "Well there's nothing much we CAN do." He was relieved to hear his usual monotone had been achieved. "Which for now, does not matter."

"Why?"

"Because Mello is playing cat-and-mouse – I suspect he'll want to play with his food a long time before he eats it."

"Do you reckon this room is bugged?"

"I'm not sure." L's eyes darted around. "I really couldn't say. Whilst from an analysis of Mello's current psychological state I would imagine he will be too busy enjoying himself to be listening to us, it wouldn't be wise to assume that there isn't someone else monitoring us for him. No, we must proceed as if he can hear."

The storms of fury within Rose began to subside into the turgid waters of grim resignation. "So we can't even make plans."

"Not that there's really anything we could plan to do," L pointed out. "As Mello will be well aware of, unless he decides to let us go, there's nothing we ourselves can do."

"True. He's not the sort of person to be reasoned or persuaded to do it, he'd just want to keep us here even more if we tried."

"Exactly. The only way we'd have a chance to do something would be if someone from the outside helped us, but of course that will not happen."

L's voice had gone a little despairing. He had also just rolled his eyes in a circle in a curious fashion.

"No?"

"Of course not, we didn't tell anyone on the outside the precise location, did we? It'll take a long time for someone to figure this place out."

Again came the weird roll of the eyes. _Is that him telling me he's lying deliberately?_ Rose pondered. _Because of course people on the outside know, Matt found the maps for this place. I suppose it's good for Mello not to know that_ , _but I'd be surprised if Mello was silly enough to assume no one else knew, and so I'm surprised that L seems to think so. Am I missing something?_

"It will," Rose agreed tentatively, putting a little despair into her voice too. L's eyes sparkled a little, and he nodded in affirmation. "So I guess we just sit here and wait."

"I suppose we do."

They drifted naturally into silence. The chemicals from the stun darts were still swimming around in their blood, and both easily sunk into a state of consciousness that was dim and lethargic, but not quite asleep.

After a timeless gap that could've been anywhere between ten minutes and ten days, the sound of the door opening jolted Rose into alertness. The deep ache in her body's stiff limbs, but the relative lack of hunger, suggested to Rose the time had been around one day. Mello had sauntered in, encased in nothing but a purple dressing gown, and alone this time. An unlit cigarette hung on his lip, and he carried a litre bottle of water. Rose opened her mouth to say something, but found the inside of her mouth was too dry, and she coughed. Her bladder was telling her that she'd needed a wee for some hours.

"So, my friends," he addressed magnanimously. "Getting thirsty? Let me help you out."

Rose glanced sideways at L, wincing at her stiff neck, and saw he was awake and bright-eyed. It looked like he'd been sitting that way for a while.

"You first, ugly. Open your mouth."

L obliged, and Mello poured a few mouthfuls in, waiting for him to swallow each time.

"And last but not least..." Mello sidestepped to Rose, and performed the same task with her, pouring water into her mouth, watching her parted lips, and the movement of her throat as she swallowed. The wicked Cheshire cat grin spread over his face. "Hmmm, now what does this remind me of..." he purred.

Rose flushed with shame and anger, and mustering her strength, spat her final mouthful full into his face. Mello laughed and wiped it off.

"Well I sure am glad you didn't do THAT at the time!"

L felt sick and impotent, wanted to run and fall into oblivion, but mastered himself as best he could to give his voice his authoritative tone. "Leave her, Mello. Don't punish her to get to me. I'm right here. Do as you will."

Mello's smiled widened. "Aww, are you scared?" He stroked Roses cheek, and watched with pleasure as an involuntary shudder rocked L's form. "But don't worry." He gazed down at them dismissively. "I'm not a barbarian, I don't go where I'm not wanted. Which really hasn't been a problem, since she was more than willing." His eyes narrowed and sparkled, teased her. Rose glared stonily back. "Besides, I wouldn't mess about with you whilst Misa and the girls are around, Jesus, they give me quite enough of a workout as it is."

Mello sat himself in the armchair and lit his cigarette. All was silent except for the inhales and exhales of his breath, whilst his marine eyes bored into L.

"In the end you've been so disappointing," Mello sighed. "Everyone is always so fucking disappointing. When I was little I thought my dad was the superhero. I'd sleep in the back of the tour bus while he was partying with all the cool radicals, and I knew when I grew up I wanted to be as cool as him. But he couldn't save his wife from heroine and he couldn't save himself from the government – what a stupid fool he turned out to be."

Mello's pretty jaw-line had been tensed in an ugly way. Even the soft surfaces of him seemed almost as if they'd turned to stone. Rose didn't move, not even to turn to look at him, afraid that if she did he might stop speaking.

"So when I got to Wammy's and all these clever interesting people were supporting the law of the governments I figured I must've been wrong, and my dad had been wrong. So I dedicated myself to becoming the best I possibly could, so one day L would choose ME as the successor. Everyone was so in love with this 'L'. I thought, if L just came here and saw what I was doing, then he'd see, he'd see how good at it I could be. Maybe not quite as good as him, but maybe nearly! So each time I heard he was in the house I hoped and prayed he would come and talk to me, to see the things I'd been making, but he never did. Then one day I built up the courage to try and visit him. Hah!" He exclaimed bitterly. "I wasn't even allowed to see him. There was just Watari at the door saying; 'not now Mello, he's very busy, he shouldn't be disturbed'. I tried twice more, but each attempt was greeted with the same answer.

That was the first time I doubted L's perfection. So when I finally met him a couple of years later and saw what a pathetic scrawny bag of awkwardness he really was it all made a horrible kind of sense. I still learnt my shit, but this time to replace him, to prove I was better than him, him and that creepy Near.

So I went out into the world more and more, and the more I saw the more I realised that I couldn't even trust the governments. It turned out my dad had been right after all! He had been a bit useless, but he'd been right. I realised if no one else could pull off the things he'd wanted to achieve, it could only be me. Only I wasn't gonna fuck it up. And I haven't!"

He relit the cigarette that had gone out whilst speaking. "Coz here you are, and three world leaders are dead. Viva la revolucion!"

He spoke with pride, but his face was oddly hollow, his eyes too bright. Stubbing the cigarette out on the arm of the armchair, he stood up, and removed a simple metal key from the pocket of the dressing gown.

"So, for our next game..." He moved toward Rose, and started undoing her cuffs. Immediately she attempted to get up and knock him down, but found to her shock that her body was too numb and painful to stand up yet. Her bruises from the mechanical legs could barely be felt against the deep ache in her back and shoulders. Mello turned calmly to undo L's, fully aware that neither of them could do anything.

"For our next game you get three hours to figure out how to escape this room. Have fun!"

He left the half-full bottle of water on the armchair, turned, and opened the door with the car-key-esque thing. "Oh, and one more thing-" he leant out of the door, and then leant back in, throwing a plastic bucket on the ground. "Forgot to give you your toilet. See you later!"

Rose lay on her back, slowly wiggling her muscles until they began to feel a little more normal. A cold despair had settled in on her. So she was surprised to find that, on turning to look towards L, that he had a strange little grin upon his face.

"Huh? What is it?"

"I think it's safe to say that there's a ninety five percent chance that we're not bugged."

Rose watched him roll into his usual crouching ball with satisfaction, as her mind worked speedily in attempt to figure out how he'd reached the conclusion. "Aaah, okay I think I've got it," she said after a moment. "So the over-dramatic lying you did was deliberately bad acting? You reckon that in his state of competitive euphoria, he'd jump on any opportunity to show you up as bad at something, so he'd have been sure to crow about seeing through your lie."

"Precisely. I also assumed that if someone else had been monitoring for him, it would have probably been obvious enough for them to pick up on too, and that during a 24 hour period, they would be likely to pass on the recordings to him if anything seemed fishy."

"That makes sense. We still cannot be sure, though."

"We can rarely be absolutely sure of anything. I think in our predicament, we may as well take it."

"Yes, I think you're right."

Rose had struggled up to hands and knees, and pulled herself slowly up onto the armchair. "Aaaah," she sighed in relief. "That's better. So, are we going to play his game?" Then she twisted uncomfortably. Her newfound comfort had made her remember how desperately she needed to toilet.

"I'm sure he will want to devise some sort of forfeit if we fail to try. But it is a choice for us – how much do we value three hours of freedom? Well – relative freedom?"

Rose twisted her lips and pondered. "True. I didn't think of it that way."

L watched her face, still pretty but haggard from the sleeping drugs and the hours of pain, tighten and blush a little as she turned her eyes back to him. "What is it?" he probed quietly.

"Umm, can you turn around?"

"Why?" he asked, nonplussed.

Rose rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Because I need to go to the toilet."

The reasons for her blush were so amusing to L that a smile cracked his face. She went even redder.

"But it's nothing I haven't seen before."

"Yeah, but it's different. Turn around."

He obliged, and looked with deliberate interest at the strange patterns the mould was making in the top corner of the concrete wall.

"And don't listen!"

"You seem incredibly perturbed by my awareness of your bodily functions," L drawled mildly. "I must confess, I don't see the problem."

"Just because you have no social conditioning, doesn't mean I don't."

"Well maybe you should forget it," he responded evenly. "It seems like a silly thing to me."

"Is it?"

"Yes. It's gender conditioning, is it not? Society conditions us to think of women as only valuable and desirable insofar as their physicality is purely attractive and sexual, definitely not functional for the fulfilment of her own humanity, and certainly not in the least bit gross. Therefore, women must hide and be ashamed of the waste products of their perfectly normal digestive system."

"Curse you and your accurate deconstructions!" Rose retorted, but she laughed, and moved towards the bucket. "There's no way I can persuade you to put your fingers in your ears and 'laa', is there?"

"Not a chance."

"Fine, whatever. I know you're right really."

And she sat down on the bucket with as much dignity as she could muster.

When they had both relieved themselves, they took a few generous sips each from the water bottle.

"Hey," said Rose, after the initial pleasure of gulping down the water had passed, "do you reckon it was spiked?"

"The chance of that is almost certainly below twenty percent. I think he feels he's got us in enough of a bind. It's a risky manoeuvre un-cuffing us – for all he knows, in three hours time we could be perfectly ready to fight. So I think for now, his irrational confidence keeps us safe from further measures."

They were sat on the floor, each leaning sideways on the front of an arm of the broad, squishy chair. Rose gingerly moved her wrists, elbows, and shoulders in turn, loosening slowly.

"Perhaps there ISN'T any way to get out, and it's just a joke."

"Well, there is the door," L pointed out. "It can't be _impossible_ to open."

"Hmm."

Rose shifted along the floor awkwardly towards the door. The surface seemed as impregnable as the large door outside, and there were no obvious hinges, joints, or weak spots. In fact there wasn't a single obvious flaw in its smooth metal surface.

"Anything electrical in the room?"

"Just the lamp."

"Hmmm. Not enough to work with."

"Perhaps a well-placed fire."

"L I hardly think-" But Rose stopped mid-retort when she saw his eyes dancing with humour.

"Well it's a comfort it is not, that if worst comes to worst, we can always curtail the length of our punishment."

There was something a little mad in the humorous light in his eyes, and Rose was mildly disconcerted. "Let's not think about THAT yet."

With difficulty she heaved herself up, and began pacing around the room for inspiration. Every idea was immediately discarded. _Rubbish_ , she thought angrily, _what a load of shit_. Her anger was bubbling around on top of a deep well of panic, like oil on the surface of a boiling pot. _This won't do. I've trained better than this, what am I doing?_ With a grim self-awareness, Rose was aware that each time she was imprisoned, it was becoming MORE difficult to handle, not easier. _It's like each time carries the weight of all the others, I can feel in my body the echo of all those fears and pains. And between each time, I forget the scars, but it only takes a moment to rip open the memories in my heart. I'm shaking, I'm actually shaking. I can't do this forever, I can't do it. Can't do it. Can't. Can't-_

"Rose."

She turned, swaying. L was sitting in the armchair: not crouching, but sitting. _Okay,_ L thought with determination, _you have read the emotional signs, now comes the important part. Get in some practise._ "Come here," he ordered gently.

Rose half-stumbled towards him, too shaky to question.

"Sit," he said, and nodded to his own knees.

She collapsed somewhat awkwardly onto his lap and buried her face into his neck as two, bony arms, strong even now, curled tightly around her. The sweet, sharp smell of him and the stable warmth around her made the shaking worse as the energy of terror stuck in her body began to release. She was too dehydrated to cry.

Perhaps ten, fifteen minutes passed. The shaking gradually subsided, and eventually Rose felt able to sit up a little and look at him. _Breathe, Rose, Breathe._ There was a question in his eyes.

"What?" She prompted.

"Did that help?" He asked doubtfully.

She coughed out a laugh of disbelief. "Definitely."

"Good. It was an assumption of mine that you, like many other people, would find physical contact a comfort in times of panic. I'm glad it proved correct, it was only inductive reasoning from one singular event after all, going off your response following that dream you once had."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Well don't go spoiling it by getting all analytical."

"Does that spoil things?"

"Some things."

After a few moments, Rose got up and sat by herself in silence, clearing her mind and stilling her heart and body. A little strength and clarity began to return. She viewed the situation in her mind's eye, zooming as far out as she could to take in the whole picture objectively. It could have been any length of time when she eventually opened her eyes, and saw that L had reverted to crouching, eyes closed too.

"So I think the best thing we can do-"

"-is just wait." L finished her sentence, and Rose nodded approvingly.

"Exactly. Wait for Mello to slip up when he's drunk perhaps, or for him to get bored and change things, or for Matt to figure something out from the outside."

"Yes. And meanwhile, we can conserve our energy. I wish there was coffee. Or maybe some sugar cubes. My brain has never felt so slow."

"When was the last time you went a day without coffee?"

"In Australia."

A silence descended. At the mention of that word there were too many shades of thought and emotion flowing through Rose to know what she was feeling. However they all pointed to one course of action.

"So..." she said, feeling almost as if she was speaking against her will, even though she knew she wanted to do it. "We've got time to kill. How about you tell me what happened?"

The question hung in the air.

L's jaw clenched a little. "Now?"

"Why not? It's as good a time as any." Rose chewed out the words, dreading their answer, but totally compelled.

He closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them again they were matt black and heavy. "Very well. I will answer your question." His toes shifted about on the chair.

 _So yes, it's been a VERY long time since an update, I've been rather busy in Spain planting trees... I'm determined to get to the end of this story arc now! Thank you, as ever, for reading, and Happy Christmas/Solstice/Chanukah/whatever else makes the festive season happen._


	53. Chapter 53: Confession

_Thanks for the reviews!_

"We went to Cairns. I rented a flat to conduct research from. Australia is disgustingly hot, but the flat was nice and cool. The coffee machine was excellent. The very first day I sent an undercover cop to the ashram in the jungle, one run by some guru who called himself 'Kahili Wise'. Meanwhile, I researched him, the other known lead members of the organisation, and the disappearances of the travellers. His publications were exactly as expected – a mixture of dramatic transformation stories and self-help wisdom. No different from any others I'd seen. The other members appeared equally innocuous. However, the fact that several people over the years had been there and disappeared was not a fact that could be ignored. The ashram's story was that every single one of these people had decided to go exploring the jungle caves and had fallen into subterranean waters. The local government had decided upon the eighth death that perhaps it was worth their real attention after all. Which certainly tells one something about _that_ particular organisation, too."

L sighed, and examined his fingers. "On perhaps the fourth evening, even though she had asked once before, Wedy asked me if you and I were 'together'. I told her that you had negated our, whatever it was, and had asked me to leave. She then began stroking my hair, and I asked what she was doing, and she kissed me. Her lipstick was quite unpleasant, but the kiss was not objectionable. She explained that sexual intercourse was thoroughly different with each person you had it with, and would I like to try it with her? I had a certain degree of curiosity about this idea, as this is the sort of knowledge you cannot gain from study but only through direct experience, and so I consented to try it. So she-"

"Spare me the details."

Oh, yes. Of course. Thus we did so. As a firm believer that all practical hypotheses should be tested at least three times in the field, we did so again in the middle of the night, and once more in the morning. After which... After which I thanked her for the opportunity, and explained that my conclusion was that she was correct, and a sexual experience with one person is totally different from another. So I suggested that we'd now wasted quite enough time, and should not engage in such activities anymore, so as to focus on our work."

Rose groaned. "Oh god. Oh Jesus, L. What the fuck." Her stomach felt queasy.

"Yes, that was her reaction too. In fact she hit me fairly hard round the face, and screamed and cried an awful lot. She was of the opinion that I was a heartless machine, an unfeeling uncaring zombie, and various other insults."

"Surely you can see why!?"

"Of course, and so I explained to her that I wasn't an unfeeling being in general, it was simply that she had proposed an experiment and that is what I said yes to. I explained that I was perfectly capable of emotion with the right person and the right situation, but that I simply didn't feel any strong emotion for her."

Rose groaned again and rubbed her face with her hands in despair. "Fucking hell L. Here was I thinking this part of the story was going to make me rage with jealousy, but all it's done is make he feel SUPER sorry for her! The poor bloody woman! Do you realise the damage those words will have done? Why did you say that?!"

"Because it's the truth," he said simply, wide-eyed. "Why should I tell her anything else?"

"To protect her feelings!"

"So it's morally correct to tell someone a lie in these circumstances?" He asked wonderingly.

"Yes!"

It was L's turn to shake his head. "I thought I was beginning to understand the rules of this game. I must have been wrong."

"So fucking wrong," Rose grimaced. "You do realise she was in love with you?"

"She was what?" He asked, genuinely astonished.

"For one so good at reading people you can be incredibly inept."

"Hmm." He played with his lip thoughtfully. "That makes incredible sense of why she used to call me every week, even when we had no projects. I thought she was probably just a person that liked to talk too much."

"Really, L. I don't want to believe that you could be that ignorant of something so obvious, but I _definitely_ don't want to believe that you would deliberately ignore something like that. So I guess I have to believe you've been stupid."

He returned her pained look with a deep black emptiness. "Sometimes I think there is less of a gap between 'ignorance' and 'ignoring something' than people like to admit."

Rose grimaced again. _Sometimes I forget that edge to him. I'm so glad I'm not at the end of that sword. Imagine if that had been me. It would have killed me. Oh, god. What if I was just an experiment, too?_

He must have seen the shadow on her face, for he queried: "What is it?"

"I wasn't – I wasn't – between us-"

"Don't to be stupid Rose," L answered before she could finish. "There was nothing more full of feeling than what happened between us." The emptiness had blessedly gone, and his ivory cheeks had flushed with rare colour.

She breathed outwards heavily. "Thank the fucking lord."

"You're swearing a lot."

"I'm in shock."

"I warned you it was bad."

"Yes, I should have listened. Well, go on then. What happened next?"

"Wedy told me I was a cruel monster, and left later that evening. Which really was not fair, because I needed her help for the case."

"Leave her be."

"So I waited for a few days, but the undercover policeman had gone out of contact. And I thought, the only effective thing to do in this situation is go undercover myself. I sent an application to the ashram with a nice blurb saying all the things they wanted, and got in easily. I discussed with the police that I would contact them with information regularly, but that I would probably be there a long time. It was a long journey up into the jungle. I hired a car and drove it to a spot halfway between the nearest local village and the isolated site of the ashram. I got the bus to pick me up, and take me near to the site like any normal punter arriving. On the pretext of desperately needing the toilet, I ran off into the trees immediately upon arrival and stowed a bag of things in a good hiding place – a spare mobile phone, tracking technology, clothes, food, and water. It's certainly lucky that I did, for upon arrival the smiling welcome team sweetly informed me that all my possessions could be handed to them, for safe keeping. One of the focuses of the ashram was to 'loosen one's attachment to material possessions and the sense of self-importance we create from them'. Everyone was equalised by wearing the same green clothes, and using entirely communal property."

"Well that explains why people went out of contact. Did anything make you suspicious yet?"

"Not really." L shrugged. "I can perfectly understand why people of a more spiritual nature would like to loosen other's obsession with material possessions. It all seemed perfectly regular as the days progressed, except for the fact that the undercover policeman was nowhere to be seen. So I kept very quiet, and pretended to be shy and socially awkward and somewhat disturbed by the events of my life, and therefore quite self-contained."

"Pretended...?"

It was L's turn to roll his eyes. "You know what I mean. In fact, I used the same computer-programmer story as I had with you."

L scrunched his toes about whilst he pondered how to tell his tale.

"Slowly I pieced together the ideology of the place. It was a little like Scientology in a way – there were 'levels' of human consciousness, and the idea was to progress from a basic, untrained state, to a highly trained, superior state of heightened awareness, love, perception, and ability. All the usual stuff. Plenty of travellers passed through for just a couple of weeks and spent time there as a holiday, swimming in the jungle pools, cooking and sunbathing and doing 'spiritual training'. The only thing that could possibly be considered strange was that the so-called leader, Kahili Wise, was very rarely to be seen. I was told that he spent a lot of time in solitude, communing with higher beings, and so could not dedicate every day to the people here.

It came to my attention after a week or so that the more trained a resident was, the higher they were considered to be, and attended all sorts of special meetings. I realised that to learn anything important about this place I must attend one of these.

I told one of the more senior members, one that I'd singled out as more gullible than the rest, that I had had an incredible powerful transformational experience that morning during meditation, and an otherworldly being had told me that it was my destiny to stay here for the rest of my life. She took it very seriously, and invited me to talk to the camp leader – not Kahili Wise, but his deputy, shall we say. He was a much more perceptive person, and I had to lie with every fibre of my being. I think you'd have been impressed."

"I'd have loved to have seen that," Rose replied honestly, imagining with interest the sincere, spiritual, free-spirit L. A smiled tugged her lips.

"In any case, it worked, and he invited me to their next meeting, where I had to swear several vows committing me to the ashram for life. I had to eat and drink some symbolic things, and announce my commitment to improving the nature of my spirit for all eternity. After which, I was permitted to know the information I'd been looking for."

"And what was that?"

"That the drop-in, casual, easy-going ashram was just Humanity One. And if you committed and worked very hard, you might eventually reach the upper echelons of spiritual achievement – Humanity Two."

"Aaah."

Rose thought about it. "But where was Humanity Two?"

"That was the problem, most of them didn't know. Only two knew, but would not tell me, for this was a secret only for those admitted to that level. Those two were the representatives and messengers between One and Two. Anyway, I managed one day to escape to my hidden bag and send this information to the police. I told them I was trying to infiltrate Two, and that as soon as I knew where it was and what was going on there, they should come immediately."

L sighed, and scratched his dark hair. "I thus poured all my energy into perfecting every task, every learning, every jumping through of the spiritual hoops I could conceive of, to progress to what they might deem an appropriate level for transferral. And I kept feeding people stories of visitations by spirits, or prophetic dreams. Soon I had many of the common acolytes following me around in awe, which was rather embarrassing. But this attracted enough attention from the leaders, and I managed to bluff myself through my meetings with them well enough to convince them to apply to Kahili Wise for an unprecedentedly quick transferral.

The interview with him was certainly interesting. As we spoke in private for the first time, I began to confirm from observation that he was a highly intelligent, manipulative man, that could weave enchanting words in such a way to ensnare almost anyone. He delighted in playing little power games, just with words, and with looks. I tried my best to strike the balance between playing them back with intelligence, and appearing suitably obsequious before his power. It worked, for I heard him speaking to the camp leaders afterwards: he said that I was strange, but definitely a highly evolved being, and there was no better place for me than in Humanity Two.

The transferral was done the very next day. To my disappointment I was led blind-folded to the location, though by counting the steps I could estimate the distance, and remembered the inclines and descents and the sound of rushing water. At a certain point the dim light filtering through the blindfold disappeared as well, my footfalls began to tap and echo, and when it was taken off, I was underground in a network of caves."

"Aaah, the jungle caves with the subterranean waters!"

"The very same." A dry smile tugged the corner of L's mouth. "So in a way, their statement to the police had not been so far from the truth."

L paused at this point, and closed his eyes. A grimness had tainted his face.

"I was led to a bed in a cave with three other beds of men and women in it. I was given clothes, the robes of Humanity Two. They were white. Mine were simply plain white, but I noticed that the other's clothes had dark brown tie-dye patterns around the arms. The caves were only lit by candles, so it was hard to examine anything closely. It didn't take long to establish that each one of my roommates was barely this side of sanity. They talked of nothing but progression, transcendence, visions, and the power of Kahili Wise. They talked of the powers they were going to achieve when they'd reached enough purity. I was waiting for an opportunity to take a walk and run off to the bag in the jungle – if I could find it – but I was never left alone. They were very excited that in two days time we were to hold a special ceremony, and part of it would be my initiation, as the newest member. They spoke with great fervour about their excitement in welcoming me into their group.

The ceremony began with drumming and chanting. There was a fire with some liquid steaming above it that smelled strong and pungent, and after a few minutes I realised it must have been some substance containing psychoactive chemicals, because my senses heightened almost painfully, and time began to move very strangely. However I still felt perfectly in control.

All variety of ceremonies were performed, and during each the group got a little more excited and a little wilder. After however many hours, Kahili Wise came and spoke. He was highly eloquent, he'd have made an excellent politician," L added, and took a few sips from the water bottle.

"I felt even myself become a little entranced at his words of being one of the chosen souls to progress to a higher level of being. Perhaps, deep down, this is one of the deepest wishes of humankind, to surpass itself, to not be as weak, hindered, and faulty as we are now, to rise above.

Then through the miasma of my mind and the smoke and the steam, I heard him speak my name. It was time for my initiation. The first part was easy: to prove my dedication to that path, I must demonstrate a symbolic gesture of self-sacrifice, to show I was willing to radically transform myself. This was a blood-sacrifice that I must cut from my lower arm and pour into a stone bowl."

He pushed up the sleeve of his white t-shirt and showed her a ragged scar, completely healed, but still shell-pink and knotted in the places where the skin hadn't knitted back together smoothly.

"Ouch," Rose said, feeling her arm twitch and sting in empathy.

"It wasn't that bad. What was worse, was that afterwards I had to take a full mouthful and drink it. Not so pleasant. Then I had to dip the left sleeve of my white tunic thing into the bowl, and wring it out."

"Urgh! The patterns on their clothes were...?"

"Yes. Blood."

"But what was on the other sleeve?"

L's brow furrowed and darkened. His next words came out slowly and quietly.

"Following this, I promised myself that at the earliest opportunity I would escape and contact the Australian police. I had seen quite enough to convince me that we could license a search no problem, and work out what was going on with a proper force involved. Being stuck in there was beginning to disturb me. I'm a creature of darkness usually, but never seeing the daylight at all? I don't like it. I didn't even know the time or how many days had passed any more. But things were about to get far worse.

I thought my time in the spotlight was over, for Kahili Wise had begun speaking more about Humanity Two and the ascension of the Beings of Eternity. 'To do so, we must accept the necessity of rising above the others. We must say farewell to those more ignorant days," he said. 'Just as the cellular animals rose above the plants, and the bacteria rose above the cellular animals, and the insects above them, the fish above them, then the reptiles, then the mammals, then the humans, we must rise above the humans, and take the place at the top of the chain. Just as the intelligent man feeds off the dumb beast, so the advanced being must feed off the man."

Rose's eyes widened in shock. L had turned his face, unable to look toward her as he continued.

"And then I was pushed to the front of the cave between the fire and Kahili Wise once more, and from a corner another form was pushed, on all fours, something in the dancing shadows of the cave I had assumed to be a large dog asleep. Butt was a man, and not just any man. It was the undercover policeman."

Rose gasped. "Shit."

"Kahili Wise, with this great big smile on his face, informed me this was the second arm of my initiation. I stood there swaying, but the heat of the fire and the psychotropic combined with my revulsion made me throw up and almost instantly pass out.

When I came round, two acolytes led me down a passage I'd never been before. We went through multiple locked doors until we came to their – their... _farm._ "

L's whole body shuddered convulsively. "There was people on the floor, and they stared up at me with the crazed eyes of caged lions, but broken and weak and smelling foul. They lived in the near darkness, chained, waiting to be led to slaughter. I was told that if I wasn't developed enough to kill my sacrifice, then I'd end up in there too.

"We went back to the cave with the fire. The crowd cheered me on as Kahili Wise placed the knife back into my hand. My survival instinct overrode all other drives. There was not a single chance I would let myself end up in that... _hell,_ waiting to die, probably being killed before the police had any chance of discovering the location of this place alone. I could easily calculate that I could not fight my way out of there, even with the knife. I was too outnumbered, and in these caves that I didn't know each person had the advantage of familiarity over me. So I looked at the policeman, recognising his face from the profile I'd been sent, but of course, he didn't recognise me. Then he whispered something; perhaps it was 'kill me', perhaps it was 'save me', I don't know. Either way, I killed him."

The shuddering had stopped, and L was as frozen as ice. "They put him on the fire and cooked him. It smelled so... _appetising_. When he was cooked, I had to be the first to eat. I can barely remember doing so, but I know I did, because before long we were all walking back to our bedrooms. My roommates fell asleep in seconds, exhausted from the ceremonial partying, but there was certainly no chance of me sleeping. I began to wander the caves, looking desperately for a clue on how to get out.

And I found a subterranean stream. The adrenaline energy of the survival instinct had faded, and the dark gurgling water looked so inviting. I could have just, leant over, and... floated away.

Something stopped me. I kept walking, and passed a few tunnels with secure doors. Two were impossible to pick, but the third was easy. I went through, and in about fifteen minutes came out into the dazzling light of the late morning."

Rose watched his shoulders move up, and down, and freeze again. He was facing the wall still.

"I climbed the highest tree I could find, and luckily, could see in the distance a mountain range I recognised as curving alongside the road. I headed for it, but it got dark before I reached it and I had to stop. The jungle was far more forbidding at night. There were creatures everywhere. I could hear snakes rustling past me in the dark, and some much bigger things too. But it was the insects that drove me mad. With the first light in the sky, I was off, and by late afternoon had reached the road.

I skirted along it hidden by the cover of the trees until I reached the stowed bag. I changed out of those bloody clothes immediately and made coffee. I called the police with the caves approximate location and the barest details of the situation, and walked the several remaining miles to the car. My driving was not as perfect as usual, but I made it back to Cairns.

I stayed there whilst the police dealt with it all. They were so embarrassed to have ignored the deaths for so many years, that they covered up the story as much as possible. And there'd been many more than they'd been aware of. I swam in the sea for hours every day. I thought it might make me feel cleaner. I couldn't wash the blood off my hands, I could still see it. Sometimes I still can. And then..."

"We called you from England."

"Yes."

Silence fell. Rose slowly untangled what was happening inside her. She was revolted, disturbed. She was angry at something, though she didn't know what. She felt a great sorrow. But she also _understood_.

"I know how you feel," she said quietly. "I killed Kiyomi with my bare hands. I could feel her neck snapping. I still dream of it sometimes."

"So we're both murderers."

"We had no choice."

"There is always a choice."

"It's not wrong to choose life over death."

"Isn't it?"

Rose bit her lip. "I don't know." She stood up, and climbed into sitting on the back of the armchair, legs either side the skinny detective. "What I DO know is that all of that is over, and this is the last time we are ever going to go diving into investigating things ourselves, alone."

She rested her hands gently on his rock-hard shoulders.

"Why, because you believe we will die here?"

"Either we die, or we live. And if we live, we're gonna take a lonnnnnng holiday."

Rose began kneading his shoulders gently with her fingers until a little looseness returned. Several minutes passed where the only sound was his soft, ragged breathing, but eventually he gave a choked sigh, and leant back so that his head rested in her lap, and his moon-like eyes gazed up at hers as would a child's. She pulled back a few tangled locks of his ebony hair from his forehead, feeling a great tenderness in her heart that was almost a pleasure and almost a pain. And to her surprise, it made a wide, genuine smile part her face. L looked confused.

"What?"

Rose's smile grew wider. "Because, if this IS the end, or near the end, I'm _damn_ glad that I'm next to you." She grimaced. "And maybe it's fucked up that after all you've just said, and the place we're in, that I can be happy, but, I am."

L didn't smile, but his wide eyes grew even softer, and he reached his hands up in silence to take hers in a cool, firm grip. It was at least a minute before he said, very softly:

"And I, too. But there is something in me that says this is not the end. Our roads have not yet reached the sea."

Rose squeezed his bony fingers. "I feel the same."

And then they both jumped suddenly, as the electronic door clunked open and Mello and Misa tumbled through.

 _Cheers for reading, sorry for doing mean things to the characters again... do let me know what you think, it's always interesting to read people's opinions!_


	54. Chapter 54:Out of the Frying Pan

Both Rose and L climbed instantly off the armchair and stood a few feet off, wary, but Mello barely seemed to notice them.

"But I don't WANT to stay here!" Misa moaned, and tried to wrap her arms around his neck, "I want to stay with you!"

"Well tough shit, you can't, things are a little messy right now, this is the safest place for you," Mello said firmly, and with a little shove plopped her onto the armchair.

Rose observed with interest the redness around his eyes and the uncomfortable strain around his mouth. _What's been going on out there?_ She exchanged a meaningful look with L. Almost before they knew it, Mello had left once more.

"So, Misa-chan", L began instantly, moving to Japanese. Rose guessed he thought he was going to sound more persuasive to her in her mother-tongue. "Why has Mello dumped you in here with us this time?"

Misa pouted a frown in his direction, and didn't answer.

"Well there has to be a good reason," L's oddly purring monotone continued, "a very good reason for him not to want you at his side."

Misa couldn't sustain her silence any longer. "Because the stupid Russian mafia are fighting and they're angry at him and someone was shot and he thinks there's more danger!" She blurted out.

L feigned astonishment. "Angry at Mello-kun? But surely that's impossible, he's their leader! What could possibly make them angry at him?"

"Because of the stupid governments wanting to have some kind of stupid war with China and they think that they won't have any business anymore if there's a stupid war and Mello-"

"Who wants to make war with China?" Rose cut in, who had to search a little longer than usual to find the Japanese words.

"I dunno, like the countries that Mello got people killed in I think, America, UK, Russia... America decided it was China coz China wants to rule the world or something, I don't know, it's all silly!" And Misa folded her arms and pouted hard at the ceiling.

L and Rose exchanged another look, this one far more alarmed.

"It appears things are accelerating at an exponential rate," L muttered, "just as I predicted. Idiot Mello."

He began pacing the room slowly, and Rose knew better than to interrupt him, for she could almost hear the thoughts racing. She turned inward, and tried to assess what had happened and what might happen next. _None of it looks good. Could this really have begun a war? Could Mello have possibly fuelled the beginning of the end of the human race? Because if this goes nuclear..._

Rose couldn't bear to think of it. _I HATE the thought of the world going to shit for no reason and we're trapped in here! All because Mello needed to prove himself. If only we could get the message out. Wait, could Matt do that? WOULD he? Even through all this, would he sacrifice his friend? In the circumstances... yes. Matt would choose the future of humanity even over his old best friend. Everything's relying on you now, Matt. But, could he prove it was Mello? Does he have enough evidence? Perhaps not. Next time Mello appears through that door, I'm gonna tackle him fucking hard and see if I can't get that key and that gun off him. I might be really hungry, but my strength's coming back._

Rose stretched out all her muscles, preparing for Mello's return, whilst L continued to pace. Misa was dozing off in the armchair, and after half an hour began to snore gently. An hour passed, and then another, and another, and another, but still Mello didn't come. L stopped his pacing, and crouched with his back to the long wall opposite the door. Rose sat down beside him, and eased off her mechanical boots to give her unresponsive flesh some breathing room. Feeling restless, she tore open a hole in the armchair where it was already worn, and pulled out some foam. When putting her boots back on, she clamped the foam between her knees and the clasps of the boots, and, wiggling her legs, nodded approvingly at the improved comfort.

More hours passed. Rose leant against the wall and drifted between sleep and awareness, not being able to tell clearly which was which, for each time she fell asleep she dreamed of being trapped in an underground room. At one point, she woke to find L crouching very near her, and realised that he had spoken some words to her moments before.

"Huuhh?" She asked eloquently, blinking her fuzzy eyes.

"I said, may I hold your hand?"

Rose grinned sleepily, and extended a hand. "It would be my pleasure."

The feeling of his hand linked into hers was warm and tingly, and the comfort of it sent her right back to sleep. However, what seemed like only moments later, she woke up with sharp pangs in her stomach.

"Aiyeeee," she moaned, and clutched her belly.

L, who was now standing at some distance away, scratched his left leg with his right foot. "Yes, those are the hunger pains," he explained, in a somewhat far-away voice.

"When did we last eat?"

"I must admit I've lost my usual conception of time."

"Me too."

And at that moment the door clunked open and Mello tumbled in once more, with a large lumpy sports bag dragged behind him. He almost immediately collapsed into a sitting position on the floor, and Rose was so caught by his bedraggled and strained appearance that she quite forgot about attacking him. The door slid to a close with its automatic lock. After a few ragged breaths Mello composed himself, noticed the undignified manner in which he was sprawled on the floor, and hastily got up to sit on the arm of the armchair.

"So I brought some food. You two would be crap prisoners if you were dead."

He reached into the sports bag and grabbed a pizza box, before Frisbee-ing it to L.

"There, you two share that. It's ham and pineapple or something."

He reached in again and drew out another pizza for himself and Misa, but as he turned to see Misa still sleeping, Mello decided he may as well eat without her.

L opened the box and stared miserably at the round of crispy dough, covered in glistening cheese and little pink and yellow chunks. He held up a slice between forefinger and thumb, examining it dolefully.

"You don't have any cakes, do you?" He enquired hopefully.

Mello almost choked on his mouthful of pepperoni. "Eat your bloody food and be grateful I'm not starving you!"

Rose seized the box from him impatiently. "Well if you don't want it, I'll have it." The chemical messages between her stomach and brain were making her murderous, and L's procrastination could not have been more annoyingly timed. She wolfed down a slice barely chewing, then another and another, and sighed with relief as she felt it finally arrive into her stomach.

L had gingerly taken a bite of his slice, chewed it doubtfully, and with great sorrow, swallowed it. Rose had finished almost the entire pizza by the time he finished the slice, and she threw the box down in triumph.

"What about some of that chocolate you always carry?" L queried, with as casual an air as he could muster.

"Back off my chocolate."

Rose, now that her ravenous hunger had been satiated, turned her attention back to Mello, realising how odd it was that he was eating in there, _with_ them. His face was drawn and pale, and his copper-blonde hair raked back in unkempt locks, as if he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly. He drew a hip flask from his coat pocket, took a deep draught, and then pushed the dozing Misa over so that he could squish underneath her on the armchair. Then, to their deep surprise, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

"Mello," L experimented after a few minutes. And then a little louder: "Mello!"

There was no response.

"Let's see if we can get it off him," Rose suggested.

"Good idea. You search the bag, I'll search his pockets."

Rose knelt clumsily on the floor and opened the zip of the bag quietly. Inside lay three loaves of bread, several energy drinks, a 5 litre bottle of water, and various tins of fruit and beans. _How bizarre. Is Mello leaving this for us? Or...?_

"Ah hah!" L exclaimed quietly, and Rose turned to see.

"You have it?"

"Yes," replied L victoriously, as he brandished the chocolate in the air.

Rose rolled her eyes, exasperated. "I thought we were looking for the key!"

"Oh, really? Well nobody informed me," L answered innocuously, and he took a measured bite.

Searching through the side pockets and in all the recesses, Rose could find no sign of the key. "Is it definitely not in his pockets?"

"Not in the ones I can reach. One can only assume it to be in the back pockets of his trousers. How inconvenient."

Rose showed him the food.

"Interesting. Are we the recipients?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think he's asleep enough that we could roll him over a little bit without waking him?"

"If he's drunk he might be."

"And even if he wakes up, we might be able to hold him down until we get the key and the gun in our hands."

All the brightness and quickness had returned to L's face at the advent of the chocolate. Rose smiled inwardly to herself.

"Okay, let's try it."

Rose gently levered Misa out of the way first, leaning her against the arm of the chair, and then began to slowly shift Mello round on his side.

"Go!" She whispered, and L snaked a hand behind him with the utmost care.

But the movement roused him from his slumber, and Mello jerked up and out of the chair like a startled cat before swinging an impressive punch at L's head. Though L had seen the move and had moved back, Mello's knuckles caught him upon the chin, and he stumbled. In wrathful defence, Rose launched a powerful kick at Mello's belly, which struck its mark true and the solidity of her mechanical boot sent him flying to the floor, winded. He was of course, made of more determined stuff than one kick could keep down, and he righted himself before either could pin him, taking the gun out of his back pocket and pointing it at first Rose, then L, then Rose, then L again.

"Don't you dare come near me you swine," he spat.

Mello felt around in his back pockets, and finding nothing, his face twisted into a fearful snarl.

"Oi! Where the fuck's my key?"

L sent a swift questioning look at Rose, which she answered with her blank one. He turned to Mello.

"Whatever do you mean?" He intoned mildly. "YOU have your key."

"Don't lie to me you little shit!" Mello screamed, and he scrabbled with the free hand around in his pockets, whilst still levelling the gun at L.

"Seriously Mello," Rose added in, "I admit we were trying to find the key, but we failed. Honestly."

"You're lying," the young man replied, hopefully and fearfully in equal measure. His forehead was beaded with sweat.

"Honest. Search me." She held out her arms.

"Come here," Mello motioned. "If you try anything, I'll shoot."

Rose walked over, and let Mello try all her pockets, the rims of her boots, the waist of her trousers. There were no jokes this time.

"Now you," he ordered L, and L permitted him to do the same. When he had finished, Mello let out a great wail, and slumped to the floor.

"Fuuuck! I must have dropped it as I came in! Fuck everything! I came in here to – aah fuck it – but I still want to be able to fucking leave!"

"What did you come here to do?" L probed sharply.

"Nothing."

"There's definitely something. Tell me."

"Nothing."

"We're stuck in here together now Mello, you may as well tell me."

"Piss off."

"Did you come in here to hide?"

There was silence.

"I thought so," L murmured softly, padded a few steps closer to Mello, and sunk into a crouch before him. "I know what's going on. I know that the world is on the brink of calling in World War Three because of what you've done. Now even the underground doesn't like that, do they? Not even THEY want that much instability. So your own minions have turned upon you. The captain must always fear a mutiny if he steers a dangerous course."

Mello had refused to look up. Rose could just about make out the sheen of tears on the face hidden behind that curtain of glossy hair. L went to speak again.

"Mello-"

"-Don't. Fucking. Speak to me." Mello interrupted him in a low voice that sounded like brittle metal, but L ignored him.

"Mello you do know that I can keep you safe. When we get out of here, I can-"

"No one can keep me safe," Mello cried in response, lifting his head to reveal a mask of terror, soaked red eyes wide and staring, jaw quivering, teeth bared. "They want to torture and murder me, and they completely surround us! Not only that, but I dropped the bloody key right in the path!"

He sprung to his feet and started pacing nervously, clutching the fur coat around him. "I might as well have handed my head to them on a silver plate! And what the hell do you think you could do, famous L, you're stuck in here like a turkey for the slaughter like the rest of us! When we get out, you say?"

Mello erupted into a wild, desolate laugh. "When we get out, you'd hand me to the fucking authorities to stop the war! That's the easiest way you could prove it wasn't China, after all, just let them interrogate me until I confess. Don't pull the wool over my eyes L, I know your sense of right and wrong would come out with that conclusion. Let Mello be tortured, or lose millions of lives? It's a no-brainer, what the fuck is my life worth to you?

"And if we don't get out in time," he continued, pacing more rapidly, "and the war begins, then yeah you'll really be able to 'keep me safe' won't you, while all the strongest countries in the world are busy trying to blow each other up and ending the only (horribly corporate, unfair, but relatively _peaceful_ ) international system we have! It's fucked, it's totally fucked."

He kicked a pizza box in fury at the wall, before sinking to his knees, and pressing his palms into his eyes. "I just wanted to stir things up, I just wanted to stir things up good and proper. I never meant, I never meant, I honestly never meant... Oh, god," Mello finished, as a dawn of horror rose upon his face like a hellish sun. "What have I done?"

L and Rose exchanged a heavy look.

"Mello," Rose began, but Mello shook his head, looking green.

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

And he was right, for a moment later he stumbled to the toilet bucket and vomited explosively into it. L scratched his head, face unreadable. Mello sat against the door looking so pathetic and ill, that Rose temporarily forgot all her anger at him.

"Mello, it's true. When we get out we can give you a fake identity, and you can go and hide wherever you want. L did it for me, it really works."

"We're never getting out of here," he muttered shortly, and that was the end of conversation for a while. By some miracle, Misa had slept through the whole thing.

Each person retreated into their own internal space, as time trickled eternally on. Seconds, minutes, hours... And more hours...

At some point Misa woke up and began babbling about leaving, but when Mello explained the missing key to her, she burst out crying.

"Whaaaat? We're STUCK in here?"

"Yes. And don't go moaning about it, it's not going to help."

Mello wordlessly passed round an energy drink and some slices of bread, which they took wordlessly and gratefully. L wasn't so fussy this time, and chewed down the plain slices of wholemeal without complaint. Rose could feel a small ball of hopeful certainty in the pit of her stomach, and she smiled at L.

"We'll get out. You'll see. It's gonna be fine."

"I hope you're right."

And time passed by, each deep within their own minds for the most part. No one had any way of telling the time, and so Rose began to measure its passing by the dwindling stock of consumables. A loaf of bread, two litres of water, and 8 cigarettes later, was the next time they properly spoke.

"So," L began, "how DID you do it?"

Mello stirred. "Are you talking to me?"

"Yes. How did you execute the assassinations?"

Mello sighed. "Do you we have to do this?"

Rose noticed the contrast. _A few days ago (is it a few days?) he'd have jumped on the chance. He's currently a long way from the cocky prick I met him as._

"I'm curious, that's all. A professional curiosity. Things to look out for next time."

"Next time..." Mello scoffed quietly. And then, sighed again. "Okay. Whatever. The first one was the easiest. I knew all Ernie's working girls in London, and Jessie wasn't quiet about her famous clients."

"Yes, I believe I formed a full picture of the first assassination."

"Yeah. So I guess you can figure that all I had to do was get one of her girlfriends to find out the time and location when she was drunk and pass it on to me. The fun bit was getting the pizza delivery."

"We saw your interview. You wired the computer to send you the spreadsheets."

"Yep. And that poor scrawny delivery kid... I think he thought I was a quite a beautiful woman. He must like a lady that can overpower him. Anyway, the UK was easy. Home territory and all that."

"You made yourself pretty popular with the man in New York, too. Though, I imagine post being stuck in the laundry chest, the thought of you won't be sending shivers of delight through him."

Mello snorted. "Yeah. And so whores were my way into America, too. They're honestly one of the most useful networks I've found. When I said I fancied a change of scene for a while, Ernie linked me up with his colleagues in New York, and their underworld bosses. I chatted to these guys for a while, (this was before the UK assassination), and made them a few good money-making schemes. So when I paid my surprise visit a while later, they hooked me up with all the data I needed, of their girls and their clients that is. There was actually four clients on the sixth floor of that street, in various different buildings, unsurprisingly. Luckily for me, one liked boys that look like girls." Mello rolled his eyes in a world-weary way. "Unfortunately for him, all he got was bondage minus the pleasure. I had a remote detonator for the bomb hidden in the traffic lights."

"But how did that get there?" Rose wondered.

"Within the large range of minions of those crime bosses, a few work for the city council. Tell me, if you see a couple of guys in hi-vis and hardhats working on the road, do you question them?"

"I see," L stroked his lip. "All one needs is powerful friends. So I imagine the story was the same in Russia."

"Actually, there you're wrong."

"Oh?" L raised his eyebrows, giving Mello a keenly interested stare.

"Vlad the kitchen porter was a childhood friend of mine. Well, acquaintance. A bit of an idiot. Well, a complete idiot. Completely obsessed with the Russian President, that's why he always wanted to work there. We met up for a drink and I waxed eloquent about this incredible health drink I'd discovered. I let him 'try it', (though what he tried was actually a mixture of a tiny bit of pure ecstasy and slow-release benzo), so he thought it was a miracle. I told him to pop it into somebody's food as a present. I knew fer sure he'd choose Mr President."

"So why did he run away?"

Mello shrugged. "I guess he musta figured out I'd lied, and feared he'd get the blame. I'm pretty impressed with him to be honest, I thought that would be beyond his mental capacity."

"That was cruel, using an innocent like that," Rose observed.

"Life's cruel." Mello scowled at her. Then sparked up a cigarette.

Well that passed the time," L remarked in monotone. "It was all more or less as I suspected. The personal link with Vlad, however, was a surprise. I must admit, through all the horror, I did enjoy the way you left hints for us. It was very enticing."

"Thanks."

"Especially the echoes of previous assassinations. It was very well thought out."

"Yeah, I liked that bit too. Makes it more historic, doesn't it?"

Rose coughed artificially, in an attempt to point out the absurdity of this exchange, but neither seemed to notice. _So easily they forget it isn't just a game. People's lives are not a fucking game!_ But then, on further introspection, thought: _L may just be buttering him up. Anything to keep Mello in tolerable spirits will probably prove useful._

And time passed by.

The solid floor was not a comfortable place to sleep, and Rose began to wish that Mello HAD drugged them again, just so she could pass out into oblivion for a while. If ever she fell asleep, she was very soon woken up by cramps in her side, and had to roll about again to find a new position, or get up completely and stretch.

Two loaves of bread, three tins of beans, two energy drinks, and three litres of water passed.

L was not troubled by the inability to sleep, but was troubled by the lack of anything to do. He crouched, then paced, then crouched again, and began to fold up a pizza box in as many interesting ways as he could find. _If only there was some positive thing I could work on to get us out of here. But there isn't there just isn't, and the more time that I have nothing to do and can just contemplate that fact, the more worried I am. But the more I distract myself with other thoughts, the more I think of the outside world and the more I recall that perhaps their won't BE much of an outside world in a relatively short space of time, and it's all because I failed Mello. And if I distract myself from the future by thinking of the past, all I can see is Rose, Rose, Rose, and my insides curdle with the thought that my company has led her here, into entrapment again. And if I try to let my mind go blank, all I see is blood and flesh and feel the shudder of a man's heartbeat pumping it's last through the broken chest that my knife has sunk into..._

Three and a half loaves of bread, four tins of beans, four litres of water, five energy drinks, and two tins of fruit had passed. The contents of the bucket in the corner had multiplied, and the stench was beginning to become deeply invasive of the whole room.

Misa had periods of chatting in a grumpily excitable way, but the other three were so unresponsive that she soon settled into a taciturn silence. She was far better at sleeping than the rest, and seemed to be unconscious for at least half of the time.

All the loaves of bread, all the tins of beans, all the water, all the energy drinks, and four tins of fruit had passed. One tin of mixed fruit salad and one tin of peaches remained.

Mello sat curled in a heap against the wall, hiding in the recesses of his giant fur coat, refusing eye contact with anyone. His cigarettes were gone. No one knew what occurred in his heart and mind during this time, but it didn't appear to Rose like a comfortable experience.

And time passed by. They shared the very last tins, savouring each drop of juice.

As L placed the empty tin carefully on the floor, he cleared his throat. "Fellow inmates. From this moment on our very existence relies on the whims of fate. It is out of our hands. The best we can do is conserve all possible energy, and thereby survive for the longest possible time. So, nobody waste unnecessary energy talking or moving if you don't have to. It's best if we don't really interact, interaction will only excite the nervous system and encourage our blood to pump faster to fuel more activity. Just, slow your breathing, and do your best to enter as much of a dormant state as you can."

Rose looked him in the eye, and saw a deep, heavy despair in those dark spheres. The lights had gone out. And at that moment, the little ball of hope in the pit of her stomach was extinguished. _So this is it. All the grandeur and excitement of our lives, and we're going to die of dehydration trapped in a small smelly room. Though... maybe we won't have to wait for that._

"Before the silence," Rose added, "I must ask you Mello, how many bullets does that gun take?"

"Enough," he said grimly.

"Good."

The thought floated in the air like a poisonous gas.

And time passed by.

 _Thanks for reading! Comments are always appreciated_


	55. Chapter 55: The Pied Piper

And passed by.

And passed by.

Mello and Misa lay curled in the armchair, Rose and L lay curled on the floor. The concrete floor was bitingly cold and so they were tessellated together for warmth, but it was still soaking up into them like the slow, inevitable creep of winter. They were too hungry and exhausted to get up and move. Not a word had been spoken for who knows how long. The stillness and the silence weren't pleasant but a thick stagnant soup, a heaviness, somehow an immense invisible pressure upon them. It was like drowning, ever so slowly, with no sign of light above. Strange visions and distorted sounds seized Rose's mind at regular intervals, catapulting her from the heavy pond of reality into some painfully bright, jagged, and overwhelmingly fast dimension, before dragging her back down once more. She saw monsters surrounding her, felt their slimy presence start to invade her body, heard their cackles and screeches and guttural croaks, heard their booming footsteps...

 _BOOM._

 _BOOM._

Two of the booms were much louder than before, and she jerked upright instinctively. Everyone else had done the same. _So perhaps they were not in my mind._ She tried to open her mouth to ask, but her throat was so parched that no sound came out, and simply looked at each three for confirmation. Their eyes were wide, bright and fearful with confirmation.

 _BOOM._

A third thundering sound rocked the room, and a little dust fell from the ceiling.

 _Oh no,_ Rose thought fearfully, _what if the war has already begun? We will be buried alive!_

They sat petrified in position, waiting for another sound. None came. All was quiet.

And then: SCRRRREEEEEEECCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHH. A glowing, spitting arc of fire descended through the side of the door, and it swung open in a cloud of acrid smoke and sparks. There was a shadowy figure behind, but there was something strange about it, something oddly square and lumpy, and _gleaming_ in the light from the lamp.

The thing took a step forward and Rose screamed silently in horror, for there was a monster from her nightmares, a huge clunking shape of rough pieces of metal stitched together in the form of a man, with two blank white lights for eyes. It came to a halt just inside the room, and there was an achingly tense pause.

"Sup guys! Check out this shit I made. Pretty badass, huh?"

Matt's voice, tinny as through a telephone, broke the ghastly spell.

"I can see you through its camera, and speak too through its satellite connection. I feel like I'm in a superhero film!"

There was a pause, and all four felt their heartbeats slowly return to normal, but their heads kept spinning.

"Shit, you guys look bad. Can you speak?"

L shook his head slowly.

"No worries. I'm sorry I've been so long. But I saw how anyone coming here didn't come back, and there was no WAY I was gonna risk walking up to this place myself. I started to make this thing as soon as you guys left, but it was more complicated than the last one I made, so it took over a week. Can you walk?"

All four got tremblingly to their feet, incredibly slowly. Misa toppled back over. The hulking metal head turned its beams of light upon her and the ragged shape of Mello leaning for support against the armchair.

"So. The two M's." The robot voice of Matt was hard with bitterness. "If you didn't look so pathetic right now I'd fight you. But one touch of this robot right now and you'd probably keel over and die wouldn't you, Mello. No. It can wait. Okay, if everyone can walk except for her, that's fine. Climb onto my arms Misa Amane-cunt. Even you don't deserve to die like this."

The Robot stooped awkwardly and offered his two rigid arms. With great difficulty, Misa lifted herself onto them, and The Robot stood back up.

"Okay guys, let's go. Best if we don't hang around for long, I dunno how long we've got the element of surprise."

Like a procession of the walking dead, they stumbled ungracefully up the corridor, leaning against the rough stone wall all the way. The Robot led them, the pied piper of the apocalypse, shining his two beams of light to guide the way through the darkness. Slowly, slowly, horribly slowly, they made it up the stairs, down the second corridor and into the main room.

"Uurh, watch the bodies, guys," The Robot-Matt-Voice warned. "I had to, well, knock off your Russian mafia compañeros, Mello. Hope you weren't fond of any of them. Hmm. Or maybe I hope you WERE."

They gingerly picked their way around some nebulous forms on the floor, and continued.

They were in their third corridor now, and this one seemed yet more interminably long than the last. Rose was convinced she could not take a step further, and groped weakly in front of her to try and warn L, but just as she raised a wobbling hand, The Robot spoke again.

"Here we are! Misa, I gotta put you down for a minute, this is a tricky manoeuvre. Do try and stand."

There were several strange clacks and knocks, followed by a loud crunching of metal sliding over concrete, and a trapdoor far above their heads was slid aside by The Robot's long arms.

"Up the steps we go."

A ladder of rusty metal rungs led to freedom. As The Robot returned to the bottom, L's vision blurred and scattered as he followed their image up to the blinding light above. _Not sure. Not sure I can... make it up there..._ _Too much... just let me sleep..._

Rose watched L sink to the floor. Now only she and Mello were standing, and as she turned her gaze upwards too, a similar wave of vertigo dropped her to the ground.

"Shit. Okay, I'll bring the van nearer and help you up. But that means I gotta turn old Robot here off and drive, so you just hold on tight till I arrive."

They all nodded feebly. With a clunk and a whir, The Robot's lights and hums turned off, and the figure that had been so animate, their saviour, became as still as a statue. Lifeless once more.

It seemed like merely seconds before the fleshy, incarnate legs of Matt was swinging themselves lithely down the rungs towards them. His ruddy face beamed behind steamed-up goggles, and he brandished a big bottle of water. Rose felt like she was in a dream, this had all been too strange. _Perhaps I AM dreaming, and my body is still lying down there in that concrete pit. Well, if I am, I don't mind. Long may this dream continue._

"Here ya go. Drink up."

But when Rose tried to take it, the heavy bottle just fell from her hands.

"Okay. No worries. I'll feed you all."

Like a bizarre father-bird, Matt tenderly poured a little water into each of their mouths. Sandpaper turned to thick mucus.

"A little more?"

The mucus turned to liquid.

"Okay, third time lucky."

On the third sip, a little found its way into their throats and they gasped with relief.

"Nice! Alright, this time you might be able to take a proper sip."

They could, just about, and the water was the sweetest thing they had ever tasted. Rose knew that if she had had enough moisture in her body, she'd have cried.

"Thank you," she croaked.

"You're welcome! Don't bother trying to speak yet. Save your energy."

A few more rounds of water ensued, until about half the bottle was gone. "Alright, we'll save this for the journey. Let's go. I can help you up if you need."

Mello moved to go first, but a firm hand from Matt stopped him.

"Na ah. You don't go first, I'm keeping an eye on you. You go just in front of me."

SO L went first, clinging grimly onto each rung, trying desperately not to think how much it would hurt if he accidentally let go. Rose went second, followed by Misa and Mello, and Matt brought up the rear. To Rose's surprise, it was snowing outside and the ground was already covered in a soft white blanket. She shivered convulsively with cold.

"Yeah. Never trust a Russian spring, ey?" Matt snorted. Come on, the van's just down there."

They clambered down the snowy slope between the trees for a couple of minutes, until Rose recognised the craggy rock where the door they had first seen the car drive out of was located, with the track snaking out from behind it. A big white hire-van had cut tracks right to it. Half sliding half walking, falling over hidden rocks in the snow, they made it down the steep slope at the end, and Matt let them into the back. They all collapsed on the floor in between a strange hodgepodge rig of electrical equipment.

Here's some blankets. I didn't figure you'd be there too, you M's, so you'll have to share." Matt passed over two thick blankets. "Okay, just wait while I bring old robot back home."

Lighting his cigarette, he put on a full headset that covered his eyes, fired up a computer, and took some kind of super-adapted game-controller in his hand.

L and Rose shivered in their blanket, and Mello and Misa shivered in theirs. All was silent except for the rhythmic puff of Matt's smoking, until heavy clanking footsteps announced the arrival of their newest friend. With difficulty, Matt got it to lever itself up into the lorry too, before shutting down the equipment.

"Alright. I'm gonna drive us somewhere safer. Hold tight. Here's some energy bars. It's some natural shit, I reckon your stomachs will take it, but only have a tiny bite at first." He popped a few nutty, wholegrain, fruity cereal bars in front of them, jumped out, and shut the door. Soon the engine fired up, and the van began to move slowly off down the track. Exhausted from the ordeal, the four prisoners collapsed into deep sleep, strangely lulled by the motion, noise, and light.

The van drove on and on. At intervals, Matt would stop and bring them food and water, or take them to some toilets.

"Where are we going?" Misa asked.

"We're driving to Germany. Russia's gone pretty funny about planes flying in and out of the country at the moment and they're asking all sorts of difficult questions that I'm not sure we could answer very convincingly... So I thought it best we don't try and fly home from there. And their neighbouring countries are all het-up about it too. Germany is still much more chill. Their leading media-line is that the war will never happen, and it wasn't China that instigated the assassinations. Gotta love the Germans. Super-rational, super-calm, super-organised. It things go tits up in the UK, maybe we should move there."

And they drove on, through Belarus and into Poland. They passed little villages and brown fields, great sprawling industrial cities, and wide, dark forests. Matt drank coffee after coffee, chaining cigarettes, blasting the strange Polish radio, and never pausing to rest. On they drove, through Poland to eastern Germany, where they whizzed down the autobahn straight to the airport. All four had thought that maybe after so many hours of driving, eating and dozing, they would be recovered, but they still found themselves quite weak. L had been keeping a careful eye on Misa and Mello, but neither had shown any signs of plotting to escape. They still looked too worn out, and there was a sunken-ness in Mello's face that suggested the game had been given up.

Luckily customs passed uneventfully, and the aeroplane cruised high over the clouds quite calmly. It felt like seconds before they were touching down at Heathrow. L had remembered to call Wammy's House before they left Germany, and had asked one of the housemaids to pick them up.

They drove through the late-March afternoon. It had rained recently, and each twig and bud in the hedges glistened and dripped sparkling drops onto the muddy verges. The car splashed through puddle after puddle, but the sky was totally clear, with that fresh, innocent blue-ness that makes it look like it could not possibly ever rain again. By the time they came up the lane towards Wammy's House and were buzzing through the gate, the sun was dipping behind the long-fingered willow, oak and hazel trees, sending hazy golden rays out towards them. Before they got out, L turned his head over his right shoulder like a bright-eyed raven.

"It's virtually impossible to climb out of the walled garden of this property. Believe me, I've tried. And this is why I'm not going to press your own gun to your backs as you walk to the top floor of this house. But know that you are not guests here, you are prisoners, and will be treated as such. And know too that the gun is in my pocket, and at the first sign of sudden movement it will be in my hand. Do you understand?"

They nodded, Misa sullenly, Mello heavily.

"Then this is how we shall proceed. We will escort you to Wammy's suite on the top floor, and there you will each be handcuffed until we figure out what on earth to do with you. I'm afraid there will be no negotiation. These decisions will lie entirely in the hands of Rose, Matt, and myself. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes."

And so the strange entourage processed into the house and up the stairs like a funeral with the deceased strangely absent. A tired-looking Roger greeted them in the hall, before retiring to his bed. Once Mello and Misa had been deposited and secured, the exhausted three made their way down the corridor to L's suite. The rooms were cold and un-used feeling, and they turned up the radiators and set a fire alight in the hearth.

"Pheeewww!" Matt exclaimed, and lit up a cigarette. "I'm gonna make a big pot of coffee."

"Nothing could sound more wonderful," L monotone fervently, his eyes closing dreamily for a second.

Rose noticed how she no longer seemed to care that Matt was smoking there. _It just doesn't bother me. Funny how new experiences can shift your priorities._

They sat, Rose and L each in an armchair and Matt sprawled sideways on the sofa, sipping the strong black coffee in communal silence, and watching the flames spiral and coil, licking upwards in that eternal dance of elemental change. It was immeasurably soothing.

"What should we do with them?" Matt asked after a while.

"I don't know," L said, not a little wearily. "Not to mention the question of: what are we going to do about this impending global war?"

"Aaah," Matt said wryly, through clenched lips as he puffed the second cigarette, "don't worry, we'll fix it in a jiffy, you'll see. Just a couple days work for us L, no problem."

Rose rolled her eyes at his flippancy, but felt comforted by his attitude nonetheless. "Let's think about it tomorrow. I don't know when I've ever felt this tired."

"Yeah, dehydration and starvation would do that I reckon," Matt replied, nodding his head with mock worldly-wisdom. "So that's why I've ordered a big, slap-up roast dinner for us from the kitchen staff. It's gonna be epic."

It was L's turn to roll his eyes. "That sounds truly dreadful."

"Mate, you need the vitamins. Just get it down ya, and then you can have the chocolate cake."

A crooked smile goofily lifted L's face. Neither of the other two knew why. But inside L there echoed the memory of Wammy constantly encouraging him to go outside and get some daylight, or to eat his vegetables, or to talk to some people his own age, and the memories filled him with a bittersweet joy. _You are not lost,_ he spoke out silently to the universe, _I carry you here with me, old man. Even if the image of your face fades, the imprint you left in me will never diminish._

Matt spread himself further out on the sofa. "Don't mind me, guys, I'm gonna crash out," he mumbled, stubbing his cigarette out in his coffee cup, and yawning. "Bloody hell, I don't think I've EVER done that much driving before! See you in the morning..."

"Goodnight, Matt. And, thanks. Thanks for getting us out."

"No problem," he smiled sleepily, eyes closed. "Any time you get stuck in a forgotten, crime-run cold war bunker, you know who's your man..."

The room faded to silence once more. The coffee had somehow had the reverse effect, and Rose found herself yawning copiously. L was struggling to contain his yawns either, and so, roast dinner entirely forgotten, they heaved themselves out of the chairs, away from the fire and towards the cooler bedroom. This time, it was unspokenly and assuredly known that they would sleep in the same place. They climbed clumsily, fully clothed and shivering, beneath the duvet. Eyes already closed they balled up facing each other, almost nose to nose, with knees interlocking and arms draped over each other's shoulders. The warmth began to build, and their shivering subsided into pleasant stillness.

"I don't think I've ever been so comfortable in my whole life," Rose whispered.

"Me neither. I could lie like this forever."

"Maybe we can."

"Maybe we will."

The scent of Rose was in L's nostrils, and he found himself smiling quietly to himself in the darkness. Little did he know that she was, too. And so just like that, smiling obliviously at each other, they sank into a deep, wonderful, dreamless sleep.

 _Thanks for reading! Comments?_


	56. Chapter 56: After Blood, The Sea

_Welcome, reader, to what I suspect is the last ever chapter of this story. I am moving fully onto writing my own stories now with my own characters. I hope you enjoy the final words!_

Just after a gentle spring dawn they descended, very refreshed, to the kitchen and picnicked a breakfast of cold roast dinner, chocolate cake, and copious tea and coffee. After eating so little for so long, L and Rose's stomachs felt uncomfortably full after modest portions, and Matt was more than happy to commandeer some of their shares.

"Oh, it's you."

They turned at the voice of moonlight from behind them, to see the diminutive Near observing them from the doorway. He came forward, picked up a chicken leg, and took a delicate bite.

"I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you all. Mello must have led you on a merry dance."

"Yep," confirmed Rose, "he certainly did."

"You're looking rather thin," he observed neutrally.

Matt coughed with humorousless laughter. "Yeah because Mello, the silly twat, managed to lock himself and Misa in WITH Rose and L and proceed to accidentally starve them all!"

"Misa?" Near's eyebrows raised, and Matt scowled.

"Yeah. Let's talk about THAT no further."

Nears intelligent eyes widened with comprehension. "Aaah, you were duped!"

"Oi I said let's not talk about it?"

"Sorry," Near replied, not sounding particularly sorry at all. "So how did you get out? I assume you had something to do with that, Matt?"

"Yeah," Matt said, chewing on a gravy-covered Yorkshire pudding, "I had to dig deep into the old military archives and find comprehensive maps of the bunker. It was designed to be some kind of safe-haven and control centre for important generals and stuff, for if things all went tits up. Eventually I found a proper map, and it showed three entrances. I figured at least ONE of them would probably not be under constant surveillance. It was a gamble, but I knew that since my robot would do the work, it was worth the risk, he could probably shoot anybody down before they'd figured out how to blow it up. But luckily for me, one of the entrances was almost completely disused, I had to un-bury it from beneath all the leaves. It was because the tunnel had partly caved in on the inside that they didn't use it. So I just dug through it for a couple of hours, and got in."

"You made a robot that could do all that?" Near enquired, a disbelieving look on his face.

"Come on Near, you saw my last robot, it's not that hard to believe."

"Yes, what I mean is, I'm very impressed."

"Fanks," Matt beamed through a faceful of roast potato.

But just then was a bloodcurdling female scream from somewhere far away; it was muffled through many walls, but unmistakeable. They stared at each other in alarm.

"I think that was Misa," Rose whispered.

"We better go and look," L replied, his evenness of tone belying the intuitive sense of dread pervading his body.

All four hurried up the stairs, and as they rounded the first floor, a few curious children began to follow them, woken by the noise.

"Keep them down here, Near!" L ordered hastily over his shoulder down the second flight of stairs, "on no account is a child allowed upstairs!"

Very quickly they were at the door, had turned the key, and entered. The sound of her wretched sobbing greeted their ears just before they caught sight of Misa, still chained by her wrist to the bed. But Mello was no longer there. The handcuff remained, locked in place, amidst a crusting pool of blood on the bedsheets.

"Misa! What happened?" L asked urgently, and her only response was to lift a quavering finger and point over his shoulder.

They turned. In the far corner, propped up against the wall, was the figure of Mello, his head drooped to his chest. His right hand was visibly crushed and broken from escaping the handcuff, and both wrists had been slit deeply. A horrendous quantity of blood soaked his shirt, his trousers, the floor, and the kitchen knife that lay by his side.

Matt screamed, a deep hoarse scream, and ran to him. Rose found herself sinking to the floor into a ball. L stood motionless and stared.

"No no no! You stupid fucking prick!" Matt's eyes were streaming, his voice cracking and breaking and rasping with emotion. "Why the fuck did you do it? Why the fuck? Why the-" And he broke off into a long wail of sorrow.

L padded silently towards Matt and the body of Mello to the little corner-table beside them, where a blood-spattered piece of paper lay. The writing was all over the place, from Mello having to use his left hand to write. L picked it up, and read aloud in a soft, defined voice.

"Dear everyone,

I know this makes your lives more difficult. Me a few months ago would have been pleased about that I think... Hah. A part of me still is. But the truth is, and I'll admit it, that I know I've fucked up. Super big-time. And I can't bear it. I can't bear that I've so totally failed. I'm a failure. I failed to live up to my dad, and I failed to live up to you, L. I've always wanted to be the best, but what have I been? Second best, the whole time. Second to Dad, to L, to Near, and now to Rose and Matt too. There's no place in the world for me. It's full already of slightly better people.

I just want to say, Rose, I'm sorry I involved you in my revenge game. For the record, I think you're pretty amazing, and no one else could deserve L.

And Misa, I'm sorry I involved you too. You'd have never sunk to such levels if it wasn't in the pursuit of me.

To L, I want to say, I still hate you. I love you and hate you with every fibre of my being. I hate you for being what I've failed to be, I hate you for winning the game. And I'll love you for it forever, you ugly, genius bastard.

To Matt, nothing can express how sorry I am. You were, no, are, my dearest brother. I was so wrapped up in my adventure that I screwed over the one thing in my life that I hadn't fucked up yet. And it's for you, only for you, that I'd take back every single one of my actions. I know you can never trust me now.

So I'm not gonna sit around being imprisoned by you guys, or imprisoned by the US, Russia and UK. I don't want to bear all that time alone with myself. I'm going to remove myself from the situation. And on one level yes it's selfish, but in the long run it'll benefit you guys too, I'm sure of it. I can never live with you, and would never want to live a normal life, so I'd probably just get bitter again and cause more chaos. I know myself well enough to know that. So, this is my choice.

Goodbye,

Love and hate,

Mello."

L finished the letter, and Matt grabbed it from his hands, and reread it with trembling hands, biting his lip as the tears continued to stream down from underneath his goggles. Then he clenched his teeth, and punched the wall, hard.

"Damnit, Mello! I'd have forgiven you! I'd have fucking forgiven you! You're my brother too, damnit, my fucking brother!"

There were several moments of quiet, bar the sobbing from Misa and Matt. L let out a long sigh.

"And so passes the whirlwind that was Mello. It grieves me that it has to have passed this way."

He paused, his face gaunt and strained.

"And it pains me that yet another death, so soon, should happen in this very room. Oh Watari, what would you think of us now? What would you think of your creations now?"

He took his phone from his trouser pocket with four-finger and thumb, his hand shaking, and called downstairs to Roger.

"Ask Aiber to send for the man that can dispose of bodies discreetly. Mello has... died. And book a plane ticket to Japan. We're sending Misa Amane home."

Another quiet descended.

"Is there anything we can do, Matt?" Rose asked with a little trepidation, not sure that she'd have managed to do anything useful even if he needed it.

"Just leave me here," Matt answered tautly from his knelt position, facing the wall. "I don't want you here."

"Okay. You know where we are if you need us."

"Yep. Go."

And so they left, walking along the corridor, and into L's suite. They both collapsed heavily onto the sofa.

"Is it over yet?" Rose asked nobody in particular. "Are all the horrible things over yet?" She shuddered. "I don't think I can handle much more."

"I don't know," L murmured, hugging his knees, staring unfocused into the middle distance. "We shall have to see what the future brings."

"I'm not sure I want to."

"One has no choice."

"No. Not unless you want to do what Mello did." Rose gulped, and tried to push the image from her mind.

"And I'm afraid I will not let you do that."

Rose attempted a smile, which didn't work too well. She wanted to connect with L, now that they were finally alone together and free and certain of each other after such a long time, but all the horror of seeing dead Mello and the horror of the recent past clouded her mind and heart and body, and kept her too distracted from the present to be able to reach out to him. _It's not fair. Why can't life leave us alone to be happy, just for a little bit?_

She stood up abruptly. "I'm going for a walk. I might be gone all day."

His eyes turned up to hers, owlish and round. He regarded her for a moment. "Okay."

As she walked out the door, he felt his heart drag downwards. _Finally, she is reconsidering this life. Maybe now is the time that she will leave me to save herself. And if that is so, I must let her go._ The pain of this combined with the pain of Mello's death, and the walls around L's heart shook and tumbled. The feelings inside spilled out, and he rocked in a tiny ball, crying softly, wishing he was still a child, and Wammy would come to comfort him. _No. Now we are the adults, and when we all have our suffering to deal with, there is no one left to comfort us. No one to be the arms that hold us. We must learn to bear it alone._

After a timeless interval, the pain subsided. Through a period of concentrated silence, L carefully reconstructed the dams within him. Once they were re-established, he moved to his desk of computers to attend to the tasks at hand. His hands began to perform the necessary tasks as if detached from his brain. _And so life goes on_.

When Rose returned several hours later, she cleared her throat a little apprehensively.

"Yes?" He looked over a hunched shoulder.

"L, I think I need to be alone for a few days. Just to get my head straight. Right now I feel... I feel quite broken, and very confused. And I want to enjoy time with you. But right now I can't enjoy anything. I think I need to just be by myself."

He nodded wordlessly and blankly.

She bit her lip. "It's not about you. It's about... everything."

His ink-black gaze at her was tugging her heart. But soon he broke it, and span round in his computer chair to reach into one of the draws.

"Here," he said, offering her something small and rectangular. "It's the spare debit card. Use however much you need. The number is 3188."

She came over, took it, and leant down to kiss his cheek softly. "Thank you," she said, with full feeling. "I'll see you soon."

He nodded. "Do what you must."

And with a lingering glance over her shoulder, she left once more.

 _There she goes. Perhaps she never comes back. Perhaps that's what she means._

But L firmly locked it out of his awareness, and turned back to his computer to initiate the meeting with the American government.

Little waves, spitting foam and sand, oscillated in great looping curves along the beach. The sand was grey-yellow and peppered with broken shells, straggling seaweed, and rounded pebbles that were grey for the most part, and occasionally shot through with white quartz lines. Behind her sloped jagged shelves of potholed rock up to the vertical cliffs at the back, that loomed ominously upwards to the plateau of sheep-nibbled grass beyond.

And the sea! The sky above it was patchy: in places the clouds stacked high and dense, in others they were wispy and ethereal, and in places gaps pierced through to the sun-drenched blue spheres above. The sea, ever the dramatist, reflected this pattern whilst making it deeper and more poignant. Wide obsidian-black lakes were lashed with threads of dirty gold, murky purple and green channels passed they by, and in the few places where sunlight shot through, a beam as if from heaven stroke down from the clouds to cast the surface of the water into a scintillatingly dazzling silver mirror.

Such was the beauty of the Welsh coast on a stormy April day. Rose had been walking, sitting, walking and sitting, further and further up the coast. She had walked through rain, through sleet, through glorious sunshine, and many a day of boring grey. The boots were much improved since she'd added the foam in the bunker, and she found she could almost forget she was wearing them. She found pubs to eat lunch in, and each night a B&B or hotel to sleep in. It had been eight days, but she had no idea how far she had walked, or for how many hours she had stared at the rippling, ever-different and ever-the-same, waves of the ocean. Barely a word had been spoken, just to order food or book beds. Slowly, slowly, the raging mess inside her began to calm, and the pervading sense of fear began to dissipate.

The previous day, Rose had sat on a square rock that jutted far out into the sea on the end of a small peninsula. She had felt lost, isolated, disjointed. After half an hour or so, a round, silver-black head had popped out of the water just in front of her. A pair of spherical, intelligent eyes looked at her curiously. _A seal!_ Before she knew it, two more doglike pairs of eyes were watching her, bobbing around playfully in the water. They seemed to speak to her, somehow. They spoke of joy in life, they spoke of grace, they spoke of moving easily, of fun and laughter. And Rose found a bubble of joy rising up in herself, just like a bubble through a glass of water, up through her body, filling her heart with radiance, and throwing a smile out of her face. She had laughed out loud, at which sudden sound her new friends scarpered under the waves in alarm. The laugh had softened to a chuckle, and she had got up and walked on, taking the laughter with her.

The storm clouds began to gather over the dark waves. Rose took that as her sign to leave, and headed for the little path that snaked up the side of the cliff and out to a nearby village. She'd already scouted out a good hotel-pub, and headed there just as the first thunder sounded in the distance, and the first few large drops of rain began to fall. The main restaurant-bar room was crowded and lively, and she took a glass of wine to the only empty table, and logged into the wifi to check her messages. There was one from L on their preferred encoded messenger.

' _Discussions with UK were successful. They're willing to step back. Things with the US are still in progress, but though it will take a little more time, I have full confidence they will be talked out of it. I just have to deal with Russia now, who have always been harder to negotiate with, and have always trusted me less. I thought it might comfort you to know that information this soon, before anything is announced publically. On the second note, I'm aware that you may not return, and wanted to make sure you know that I will not bear grudge. I understand. Yours, always, L.'_

Rose spat out her mouthful of wine in surprise. _Never come back? L are you crazy? Is that really what you think I've gone and done? I only needed a little head-clearing, that was all!_

Without a second's thought, she looked up a hire-car company.

"Hello there, I'd like to book a hire car from Caenarfon as soon as possible."

"We can certainly do that. What price car you after?"

"Whatever, it doesn't matter. I just need it in the next hour."

"Okay I'll see what we can do. What's your name, love?"

"Fern Williams."

Half an hour later, Rose took a taxi from her village to Caenarfon, picked up her car, and began the winding journey south. The night was dark and cool, and her phone flashed its map to guide her through the wiggling roads of Wales and out to the motorway.

It was past three in the morning when the gates of Wammy's House loomed before her. She drove in, parked, and raced to the door. It was locked, so she took out her mobile to ring him.

"Hello?" came L's voice in her ear.

"Can you open the door?"

There was a quiet pause.

"I thought – I hoped – the car might be you. It was the most logical possibility, but still, I barely let myself believe it."

"Well, here I am. Open up."

He hung up. A nervous excitement was filling Roses body. She tapped her mechanical foot impatiently. The two minutes it took for him to reach the ground floor and unlock the door felt like an hour.

And there he was, and his face was open and vulnerable, not blank for once, but shivering with emotion, and Rose knew hers was too. They rushed into a clumsy, tight embrace.

"You came back," he whispered into her hair.

"Of course I did. I told you I was only going for a few days."

"Yes, but I thought-"

"Well, for once, stop thinking. Let's do no more thinking tonight."

"Nothing could sound more wonderful."

They moved from the door, hand in hand, into the hall.

"Are you hungry?"

"Starving, actually."

"Let's take some food up to my rooms."

So they walked into the kitchen, and picked up a variety of sweet and savoury snacks. Rose munched a slice of toast as they climbed the two flights of stairs.

Whilst Rose sat on the sofa, picking at fruit and bread and crisps and cheese, L knelt on the rug before the hearth and began lighting a fire. Soon it caught, and he moved backwards into a crouch to watch it. Rose had finished eating her fill, and came to join him by the fire, enjoying the light and warmth. They sat together in companiable silence for a while. Somehow, Rose felt herself get more and more energetic, the more calm and relaxed she became. It was a strange and beautiful paradox.

L could feel a deep current of energy rising in him, too. _It's like, I'm becoming more and more aware of where I am, the rug beneath me, the colour of the fire, the breathing of Rose, the presence of Rose, the fact that she is so close..._

He turned his head, and found her glowing amber eyes resting on him, with a cat-like, lazy radiance. The fire lit her in a beautiful orange light, and she was like a tiger in human form. He found his body tingling. With slow, careful movements, he moved towards her, and took off the normal shoes that encased her mechanical boots. She leant back on her arms, watching him. He unfastened the mechanical boots, and put them under the coffee table.

Rose waited with calm anticipation. L came and sat very close to her. There was a thought hanging in his face, waiting to be expressed.

"What is it?" Rose asked.

He wiggled his lip. "I just wanted to say – that I don't mind how long you leave for. You may go whenever you want. As long as you always come back one day."

Rose smiled, and it was a nervous and pleased smile. "Always is a long time," she cautioned, half-jokingly. "But..." and Rose blushed, "I think I probably will. I don't know where else could ever feel like home, now. You feel like home."

A smiled creased L's pale face, and his obsidian eyes softened to a black of deep treacle. "Good."

Those soft dark eyes were too much for Rose to resist any longer, and she reached out to caress his cheek and hair with trembling, fluttering fingers. His hand, steadier than hers, found her cheek and throat and lips, and stroked them longingly. Rose found her breathing quickening. Gently, they inclined their heads towards each other, and shared a kiss that crackled with potential energy. It was too good. They kissed again and again, feeling the energy rise and rise. Rose wished she could have moved as fluidly as she could have before her legs had gone, but she could not, and let herself be stiller.

Clothes fell away, piece by piece. The larger logs had caught on the fire, and it was getting nicely warm. The logs spat and crackled. With firm, gentle hands, L lay Rose down on the rug and kissed her from head to toe. She could have almost purred.

Their love-making began very slowly and gently. Rose held his eyes, wanting to look at him, but shy all the same, and feeling utterly exposed. It was a very soft exhilaration. Moment by moment, motion by motion, like the inexorable push of the tide moving in, the sensations grew stronger and deeper as he moved deeper and stronger. The feelings grew like ripples spreading out on a pond, wider and wider, more encompassing, until they overtook her whole body and being and she gasped and moaned, overwhelmed by the devastating beauty of it. She could hear his breathing mirroring her own, but more ragged, with harsher edges, and the dark, intense gleam in his eyes made her melt and explode and fall apart inside, a shattering blitz of desire and yearning. It was carnal, totally real, yet transcendent of everything.

Who knows how much time and how many waves later, the dance rose and burned to a powerful end. L's slender, pale, elegant body, sheened in sweat, collapsed onto her and they embraced with arms and hearts rushing with love. Faces buried in each other's necks, no thoughts at all, just the sensation of each other's trembling bodies pressed close, they lay like that until the storms of breathing subsided into calm.

After a while, L moved, and Rose went to move too, but he lay a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Stay there," he whispered.

Beginning from the crown of her head, he began, with careful, precise fingers, massaging each muscle in her body. A wide, serene smile spread over her face, and as she lay with eyes closed, L marvelled at her beauty. It felt like him the most precious gift in the world that he could be near, even touch, this most miraculous manifestation of the universe, that he should be so lucky to feel this smooth, taut, warm skin under his hands, to take in with his eyes the graceful shapes and curves of her goddess-form.

Inch by inch, he moved attentively past her hips, down her thighs, and to her poor bruised and calloused knees. Here he worked especially delicately, just feathering the places with light fingertips, before moving down her calves. _She won't feel this of course, but this part deserves the attention just as much._

Rose, her head back on the carpet, felt the most bizarre and revolutionary feeling. From some nerve cells deep within her calf came a rush of bio-chemical communication, all the way up her spinal cord and into her brain. She gasped in shock.

"What?" he questioned worriedly."

"Nothing! It's just – don't stop. Keep going."

And so he did, and like a miracle, Rose felt more and more tingling sensation return to her long-dead lower legs, then her ankles, her heels, the ever-so-sensitive soles of her feet...

L looked up to find tears streaming out of her closed eyes. He found his heart beating in his throat. He barely dared ask. "You can – feel?"

Unable to speak, she nodded her head, as more tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes and dripped to the carpet. She opened her eyes, and they contained the most beautiful, sorrowful joy that L had ever seen, and he found his own eyes unbiddenly watering. He lifted her feet gently by the ankles, and kissed each toe. _I have never felt this much tenderness in all my life_ , he thought, and though it terrified and excited him in equal manner, another part of him was as calm and assured as a mountain. _This is right,_ he knew with certainty, _this is totally right_.

With great trepidation, Rose got slowly to her feet. She tested her movement experimentally. Then her face cracked into a wide grin, and she danced and spun around the room, completely naked, laughing with joy, and her laughter was so infectious that L found himself laughing uncontrollably too, so hard that he had to clutch his stomach and gasp for breath.

After a minute, she came back to the fire side, and they snuggled into each other's arms, gazing contentedly at the fire once more.

"L," Rose said after a while, "can we go on a holiday?"

L looked at her dubiously. "You mean, no work?"

Rose rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, that's what holiday means."

"Hmmm." He bit his lip.

"Just for a week. Not long. I just – I just feel like, we should enjoy ourselves, just for a little bit, we should relax. Before we get into anything else crazy. Because..."

"Because what?" He questioned in his ever-so-soft monotone.

Rose's face was soft and sad. "Because, we might not always get so lucky. We might not always get out alive. A cat only has so many lives, after all. And, I don't want to die without having enjoyed some of my life with you first, and I don't want YOU to die before that either. I would regret it eternally, I would long for it forever."

L nodded solemnly. "I understand. As would I. Let me reason with Russia, first. And then after that... perhaps this one time, I will make an exception. I cannot promise that I will ever do it again, but this single time... I will."

Rose kissed him happily. "Thank you," she whispered.

"But where will we go?"

L could see from her face that Rose clearly had an answer in mind, for a little smile was tugging her lips.

"Well, there's this island off Japan..."

 _Well, thanks incredibly for coming along for the ride! May you be happy, and peaceful, and free from suffering. May you find what lights your fires and not be too afraid to follow it. May you find wisdom, joy, and love, love, love._


End file.
